Reaping The Benefits
by loveandaudrey
Summary: "Love isn't restrained to certain shapes or sizes, colors or shades. Love flourishes, even when one refuses to accept that it can." Carlisle wakes up to find himself and Esme human, but only he remembers their past life. The next day the roles are reversed, and Esme is horrified by her new state. AU, OOC, M for lemons and language
1. Chapter 1

**Please Read Before Continuing:**

**A serious warning to anyone reading this: This is _not_, I repeat _NOT_, a normal Carlisle/Esme story. If you are looking for a cannon story, this is not it. If you are looking for a story in character, look somewhere else. This story contains sexual situations and differing views of beauty. This story centers around the acceptance of one's body and love at any size and or shape. If that offends you, or if anything about not-skinny-girls is disgusting to you, now would be a good time to leave. I really don't want any hate mail because of this story, which is why I am placing this warning before everything.**

**After reading many stories featuring trim and proper Cullen ladies, I decided to mix it up a bit. I'm really tired of hearing about "skinny waists" and "fit tummies" because for most woman out there, and I'm not saying all, that just isn't reality. Even though it is fanfiction, a dash of reality is sometimes needed. Self-acceptance is something that everyone should have, and self-respect is even more important. Society today just isn't proud of the average female form, so I decided to write about what it would be like were Carlisle and Esme approached with a situation different from the normal. Once again, if anything associated with what has been stated above offends you, please do not read. Also, if you are under 18 please stop reading.**

**Alright, on with the show! I know this is a little odd, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! **

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Carlisle P.O.V

Something was off. I knew that before I even woke up. I was waking up, wasn't I? The feeling of exhaustion suddenly seemed so familiar to me, like an old friend coming back after so long away. In a way I welcomed the feeling.

It was human.

My eyelids peeled back, painfully slowly and with an eerie dryness that was uncomfortable to say the least. My bones hurt and my body ached. I was tired.

The sun was just above the horizon, allowing its bright rays to cascade across the skyscrapers outside the window in front of me. The clean, crisp plane of glass allowed a burst of light to gleam through, hitting me with its full force. I winced, prepared for my skin to alight like the glass in front of me. But there was nothing. My skin was normal skin.

I was human.

I could feel it within me, as clear as the sun in front of me.

Suddenly I became a frantic mess, sitting up so quickly I nearly hit my head on the head board. My mind raced, my heart thumped.

_Human._

Never in my wildest dreams could I ever imagine such a wonderful fate. This was not a dream, this was real.

I glanced over at the other side of my bed to find a resting Esme, her form twisted with a large blanket beneath the comforter, a bright flame of caramel hair fanned across her pillow. I resisted the urge to spring upon her in my excited state and pull her up from her sleeping position, but I couldn't fight the urge to gently wake her by pressing a hand to her shoulder and whispering softly to her.

"Esme, my dear, wake up. You won't believe what happened."

She rolled over sleepily, allowing me to sneak a glance at her lovely face, as lovely as ever, before rolling back over to face the opposite wall.

"Not yet, Carlisle," she moaned. "Go do your work out and come back and get me when you're done. I'm too tired after last night."

_What the heck?_

"What are you talking about, Esme?"

She grumbled something incoherent before pulling the sheets closer toward her frame.

_This is getting a little scary._

Suddenly, an image of a sick and dying Esme who had succumbed to her human illness appeared in my mind. What if this is some sort of hell? What if this is my punishment? The thought made me breath harder and my heart race.

"Esme, please get up. We need to talk."

"No. Go away. Go run or whatever you do and come back in an hour. We'll take a shower together."

_What? Has she gone mad?_

"Esme, what on earth are you talking about? Esme?"

She rolled over and sighed. I was finally annoyed. And worried. Was she not fazed by what has happened? Is she not happy?

"Esme, I'm going to pull this blanket off and you're going to get up and we are going to talk. Surely you are happy about what happened, surely you can tell…"

My voice trailed off as I yanked the covers off my wife, only to find something I was most certainly not expecting to find. What I had thought were blankets beneath her were not blankets at all.

There, lying on the right side of the bed, her head nearly off the pillow, was the body of another woman. It was not my wife's. That was for sure.

I have had ninety years to get to know every curvature of Esme's body, and this…_this _is not anything I remember.

Esme looked beyond bloated, a much fuller version of herself. I knew it was her, theoretically, but I couldn't wrap my mind around what she had become.

My petite wife had blossomed into a plump woman without me even knowing.

She was wearing nothing but a scrap of lace to cover her nether regions, which was, in itself, a very un-Esme-like thing to do since she is very rarely caught without a bra on, no matter the circumstance. Though, with a chest that size I could tell why she wasn't wearing a bra. Propping up breasts of that size would of course be rather painful, especially with human flesh.

Maybe I was blowing it out of proportion. She wasn't fat, just plump and very curvy. More curvy then I had ever seen her. I felt my face get hot.

She sat up a bit, supporting herself with her elbows. Her arms looked thicker, as did her face. Her belly had always had a slight outward curve, but never something that could actually be called a belly, until now. It appeared soft and her bellybutton looked squished from the flesh around it. I could see a slight crease in the skin, which meant it probably looked small compared to what it would look like when she stood up.

Because of the size of her breasts and the space her flaring hips occupied I could immediately tell she was a full hourglass shape. I suddenly felt very proud of her new figure.

_Of course she would be gorgeous with a couple pounds on her; she's my wife after all._

As she properly sat up, allowing her back to fall across the head board, her tummy bunched up into a little hill by her crotch and her pert breasts sagged slightly. I tilted my head a bit, confused but enamored by her new look.

_I wished for this, didn't I? What have I gotten myself into?_

She hooked one voluptuous thigh over the other and sent me an amused grin.

"What are you smiling about?"

I shook my head, smiling slightly. "I – you…we're human and you're…"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, we are human last time I checked, and I'm what? Lazy? Is that what you were going to say?" She laughed. "Yeah, I know I'm lazy, but I'm getting up. I guess I'll go get breakfast going…are you going to go…you know, work out for a while? Or are you skipping today?"

She's obviously unaware of what has happened, which really isn't all that bad, since, if she was conscious of our changing, she would most likely be screaming in anger over her new body. I suppose God _is_ watching out for me.

"Uh, I guess I'll just skip today," I said, going along with the apparent reality.

She smiled, shaking her head as she stood up slowly. "Don't get soft on me, honey. I got to have my buff man around for eye candy."

I didn't really know what to say back so I just kept my mouth shut.

_Better to be quiet then say the wrong thing._

She walked past me, brushing her hand across my leg with an electric touch. She leaned into me, pushing her bountiful chest into mine, and planted a soft kiss on my lips. My eyes briefly shut but when I opened them she was gone again.

I noticed the closet was open and guessed she had gone to change. I missed her presence but was glad I could finally take in my surroundings.

The room appeared to look similar to our bedroom back home, if maybe a little smaller and more cluttered. I could tell from the skyline outside our window that we were in New York City, which was indeed a big move from Forks. A rack of weights sat in the corner along with an elliptical. I eyed the machine with mixed feelings. I had never needed to work out to stay fit, I just was.

I hopped out of bed and peeled off my white t-shirt so I could properly see my reflection. Sure enough, Esme wasn't lying. I looked like the type of guy who worked out every day. Although I wasn't quite on par with Emmett's size, I was definitely getting there. Muscle covered by taunt, pale skin coated my body like a foreign layer of clothing. I suddenly felt bulky and out of touch with myself. It was an even weirder feeling then waking up human. I somehow felt infiltrated. My life outside of just being turned into a human has been modified.

"Quit staring at yourself, babe. I've got bacon to fry and you've got toast to burn."

Those perfect, plush hips were covered by a pair of painted on shorts and those beautiful breasts were pulled together by a tight red robe that was tied just above her navel and ended mid-thigh, allowing me access to those perfect mounds and to the soft stomach beneath them. My mouth became very dry and my body became hot as I stared at my wife in all of her perfection. The symptoms of my arousal were so unfamiliar I was almost alarmed by them. I couldn't remember ever feeling this way before, not even when I was human.

"Are you feeling alright, Carlisle? You've been acting kind of strange…"

Esme looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern as she placed a hand on my stomach. She laughed as she rubbed my abs, her hand massaging the muscle in a teasing way.

"When I married you I would have never guessed we would have ended up this way. It's surreal, the life we live. We're so lucky."

She sighed, a smile dancing on her lips as she tangled her arms around my neck, pulling me into a deep kiss. I returned it eagerly, deepening it by placing a firm hand on her much larger behind. She groaned and pulled away, her eyes dancing.

"Not now, Dr. Cullen. We have to eat first and then we can play."

I followed her through a short hallway to a small kitchen, identical to the one at home except in scale. She fished around in the cabinets and pulled out a few pans before going over to the fridge to grab some ingredients.

"Aren't you going to help, macho man?" she asked, her head partly obscured by the fridge door.

"What do you want me to do?"

She ordered me around the kitchen for about half an hour as she effortlessly scrambled eggs, flipped pancakes and fried bacon, her body zooming around as fast as a plump, 26 year old woman can zoom. I momentarily wondered how someone could gain any weight when they moved so fast and frequently.

I carefully set the table and poured orange juice for both of us. Esme raced over, setting down two plates, identical in mass, at either place mat. That's when I realized why my wife was no longer the tiny little woman I once knew. This Esme knew how to eat, and eat a lot.

I was pretty hungry, and I ate everything on my plate, but for a man who apparently works out as much as I do now, combined with my increased physical stature, that amount is fairly normal. For me. For my wife, who stands at around 5"6' that amount of food is a little ridiculous.

By no means wanting to discourage her beautiful figure, I watched in awe as she ate her massive portion, hardly hesitating as she reached for the last piece of bacon.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, a cheeky smile on her face. She was pouring more milk (whole milk at that) into her already creamy coffee. I raised an eyebrow and she smirked.

"You know I don't like the bitter stuff like you do." She glared at my cup of black coffee. It tasted fine to me. I shrugged.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, Esme picking at the crust of her toast, me sipping on the last of my orange juice.

I don't know how, or why, but I suddenly blurted out the most embarrassing, stupid, thing I could ever blurt out.

"Esme, how much do you weigh?"

I expected her to spit out a mouthful of coffee, but instead she just snorted and rolled her eyes.

"I know I'm fat, you don't have to go all doctor on me. Even so…" she drawled as she scooted over closer to me so she could sit in my lap. Her legs straddled my hips, nearly forcing me to grab onto her butt, pulling her even closer. "You wanted me like this."

That was enough to nearly spit out the OJ in my mouth. Nearly. Somehow I was able to keep it down.

"I weighed 183 lbs. last time I checked, which was last night before we went to bed."

Thank God I had already swallowed, or else I would have sprayed orange juice across the kitchen. _183 pounds? Good God! What have I gotten myself into?_

That's a dramatic gain when compared to old Esme who weighed 118 soaking wet.

"Luckily for you," she whispered as she slid off my lap to collect the empty plates, "Most of it went to my boobs. Not all husbands are so fortunate."

That was true; most of it did go to either her chest or her bum, both of which were immensely appreciated. While before she had had a C-cup chest, her bum had always been flat, so to finally see a nice curve at the bottom of her back was like a wish being fulfilled.

"We better get going, honey. Don't want to be late for work."

We swiftly cleaned up the kitchen and headed for the bathroom, where Esme finally allowed me a little bit of play time.


	2. Chapter 2

Carlisle P.O.V

"You're late, Dr. Cullen. Your shift started thirty minutes ago."

I glanced up at the older doctor who was standing in front of my desk, his arms crossed, and his face sour. I mentally grimaced.

It was true, I was late, but it was only because I couldn't figure out the rather intricate subway system in the few minutes I had to study the map. No longer was my brain prepared to handle the onslaught of information and retain it in a proficient manner. I was a jumbled mess trying to catch the right train to the right stop. Esme must have thought I was crazy this morning, as I was forced to ask her where my stop was for work.

"I'm sorry; I had some trouble getting here today. I missed my train."

He shrugged and rolled his eyes in a dismissive way. "Don't let it happen again. We can't formulate our schedules around you."

I nodded stoutly and thanked him for his understanding. I obviously understood that he was my superior, which was odd since I've always been my own superior. I've always been 'Dr. Cullen, head surgeon,' but here I was just another doctor. I was mostly assigned to the emergency room, taking care of fairly minor implements. A broken arm here, a sprained ankle there, nothing very challenging. Thankfully, I had not lost my medical intellect. The day was an easy one.

Esme had actually packed a lunch for me, which was truly welcomed after peeking into the hospital cafeteria and catching a whiff of what they were serving the patients. The food at Forks Hospital smelled bad as a vampire, but all food smelt bad as a vampire. But this stuff, when compared to what Esme had thrown together this morning, was truly atrocious.

I pulled out the little bag she had given me and opened it eagerly, revealing a multi-layered turkey sandwich and a massive bag of chips. I was just about to tuck into the sandwich when a knock came at my door.

I checked the schedule on my desk to make sure it was indeed my lunch break (which it was) before welcoming whoever it was behind the door.

The man didn't waste a second, throwing open the door with a sort of air I had only seen once I my life.

With that crooked grin and wave of red hair I knew exactly who it was before he said a word.

_Edward!_

"Always gotta knock. Don't want a repeat of what happened last time I didn't. That was…disturbing to say the least. I'm still not quite sure how you can get such an angle in such a small office."

Edward smiled and plopped down in front of me, propping his feet up on my desk. He picked at a bag of celery sticks and apple wedges as he talked to me, waving his hands around dramatically, completely oblivious to the stupid grin I had plastered on my face.

_Edward was still here! Does that mean the rest of my family is somewhere in this universe as well?_

Would any of them remember their past life as I had? Or were they all blind? Edward obviously was, as was Esme. But surely _someone _was like me…

A new spark of hope shivered down my spine. I was not alone, not really. Esme was here and now so was Edward, and maybe the rest of them. It felt like I could finally breathe deeply and relax.

"You know, when you first married Essie, my pristine, naïve baby sister, I had no idea you would mess her up so bad. Now look at her, a tramp some might say! She could learn something from Bella, you know."

_Edward and Esme are siblings? _

Surprisingly enough I didn't see that idea as all that ludicrous, since, back in the 20's when Esme was a newborn, we used that same story as a cover up. It only made sense that it would come back up in this world.

My second shock was the mention of Bella. Since she was here, the others had to be. I bet they were all here, hiding somewhere between the wrinkles in the fabric of my life, all in plain sight. I felt a sudden rush to leave work and track them down, but controlled myself. I would find the time, but it would have to be later.

"That's a little harsh, isn't it? She's still plenty respectable…"

Edward cracked a grin and mockingly punched his knee. "You know I'm just joking, wives will be wives, right? At least Essie packs you a decent lunch. Bella's on this stupid health kick and won't let me bring anything but this crap. Go figure." He held up his bag of celery and fruit, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, a nervous squeak in my voice. It was hard talking to anyone when I hardly even knew who I was. Luckily for me, Edward was in the mood to talk.

"So are you and Esme excited about Friday?"

"You'll have to refresh my memory," I retorted quickly.

Edward sighed jokingly as he twisted an unruly bronze strand of hair. "You know the ball thing. I know it seems likes it came out of nowhere. I had it on my calendar, but I never look at that thing anyway. You know they're letting nurses come this year? What's with that? It was already packed last year with just the doctors and socialites. Bella's making me wear a tux, can you believe that?"

Great, another thing to worry about. Just what I wanted.

I tried to act nonchalant, hopefully hiding my annoyance well. "Yeah, that's really awful. I guess Esme will make me wear one too."

Edward shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to see. Bella picked out a dress yesterday, a small fortune of course, but after living my whole life with the Masen name, I've gotten used to large price tags if you know what I mean."

_Edward and Esme come from a wealthy background. Understandable considering the fairly large apartment Esme and I have overlooking 5__th__ avenue. _

I had to remind myself that in this world, I was not a centuries old billionaire. I was just a young doctor right out of medical school.

"Well, I've got a meeting to catch with the head of the oncology department. Should be fun. Are you and Esme still on for dinner tonight?"

I instinctively nodded and sent him a slight smile as he left.


	3. Chapter 3

Carlisle P.O.V

For the first time in a while it actually felt good to sit down and rest for minute once I got home from work. As a vampire I never actually got tired, but as a human, exhaustion is a routine feeling. There was no way to get around it. It was just life.

Esme wasn't home, which was odd since, for the past ninety years, she's always been home, ready to welcome me with a kiss. I wasn't used to seeing an empty house.

What I had assumed would be a peaceful afternoon quickly turned into a desolate and depressing afternoon. I used to enjoy my rare moments alone, but now all I wanted was to be with my family again. I suddenly felt terribly alone and old. In reality I was young, but inside I felt like an ancient man living the life of a child. I was content but at the same time I was miserable.

I didn't want my old life back. I knew I didn't want that. I loved being able to wake up next to Esme, it was the gift that I had always wanted. But even more than that, I wanted her to have our child. That was, after all, what I had been praying for all these years.

When I awoke as a human I expected to hear the sound of tiny feet on hardwood, to the sound of joyous children and babies and my lovely wife caring for them. But none of that happened. I lived a weird life that I would have never imagined I would ever live. I still loved Esme, loved everything about her here and in my old life, but I wanted to have children with her, and I knew she wanted them too.

I had Edward and Bella apparently, and although we were still technically a 'family' it was obvious that we didn't live under the same roof, or fall into separate family roles as we once did. He was grown, but to me he would always be like a son, no matter what world.

And I of course missed my other children. Rosalie, Emmett, Alice and Jasper were as much of a part of my life as Esme and Edward were. It was only reasonable that I would miss them terribly.

It was close to 6:30 by the time Esme got home. She gave me a worn smile before plopping down in front of the TV.

_So much for a welcome home kiss._

I stood there for a minute, awkwardly wondering what to say. She just stared at the screen blankly, her eyes slightly glazed. It took me a minute to realize that I didn't even know where she worked.

_How pitiful of me._

"So, how was work, dear?"

I carefully sat down next to her, stretching an arm around her shoulders. She eagerly snuggled into my embrace, tucking her head into the crook of my arm.

"Hmm…fine. Busy."

I bit my lip, wondering what on earth would make sense to say next.

"Busy with what?"

She turned a little to look at me, a slight smile spreading across her lips.

"We had a few uppity older women from out of town come in to get a couple rooms redone. It took me a while to come up with something…they were picky to say the least."

_Of course she would be an interior designer. Why didn't I think of that?_

"I know I came home a little later, but I'm here now…" Esme bit the bottom of her lip and pulled herself over to me, straddling my legs with surprising grace. She grabbed at my shirt collar and leaned down, taking me into a deep kiss that had me grabbing at the leather cushion beneath me.

Esme was never one to take control like this. Ever. It just wasn't her.

_But who's complaining?_

"We have to leave soon, to go meet Edward and Bella," I reminded her between kisses.

She laughed, shaking her head as she laced her fingers through my hair. "We'll be done by then. You know it doesn't take us very long."


	4. Chapter 4

Carlisle P.O.V

"I don't know what to wear, baby," Esme moaned from the closet, her hands flying across the racks.

"I don't know what to tell you, darling."

She turned toward me; hands on her bare hips, eyes slightly squinted in mock annoyance. "You are no help," she assured me, before turning back around, allowing me a grand view of her almost too-perfect round bum.

I placed a bookmark on the page of the medical journal I was reading and strode over to my wife. She turned toward me and raised a delicate eyebrow as I wrapped an arm around her soft waist.

"You're distracting me, Carlisle!" she accused in between giggles as my fingers raced up her side, tickling the supple flesh.

"Alright, alright, I'm done. I'll help you pick something out." She shot me a smile as I untwined my arms from around her and began skimming through her closet.

It was, not surprisingly, different from her closet at home. Where once she had purposely dressed older to appear in her 30's, she now dressed her actual age, if a little younger sometimes. And, of course, the sizes were larger, which was also a little startling. I smiled as I pulled out a sheer pink negligee and held it up against my wife.

"I think this would look nice, what do you think, dear?"

She giggled and swatted my hand away before grabbing a black, form fitting gown and holding it up against her curvaceous body. She smiled and winked at me, awaiting my approval.

"Now that," I said, kissing her adorable cheek "is a beautiful girl."


	5. Chapter 5

Carlisle P.O.V

Esme and I met Edward and Bella at an upscale restaurant a few blocks from the apartment. Esme's hand wrapped around mine was distinctly comforting as we navigated the bustling streets. It was incredibly exciting to be surrounded by so many people without the urge for blood that had become familiar to me as a vampire. I felt, within that moment, utterly complete and whole for the first time in my life since I married Esme back in 1921. I turned toward her and smiled, causing her to smile back.

"What are you smiling at, Doctor Cullen?"

"Can I not smile at my utterly gorgeous wife without being ridiculed?"

She rolled her eyes and gripped my hand tighter.

"Hmm…I suppose."

Bella and Edward had already arrived and were waiting for us when we came in. The waiter guided us to the back of the (over) extravagant restaurant and seated us with them, a drink already sitting in front of both of us. I gave Edward a peculiar look.

"The regular. What can I say, you're a predictable man!" He laughed and shot me a grin.

The liquid smelled like whiskey and tasted like fire. Within a couple minutes the glass was drowned and my head was buzzing. The feeling was truly intoxicating.

Esme smiled and placed a gentle arm on my shoulder as she sipped at her wine and talked to Bella, who was apparently abstinent of alcohol as well as junk food. Bella raised an eyebrow at me and smirked behind her glass of water as Esme chatted about her day at work.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't appear especially thin. She talked about her fancy diets and gym memberships, but her body spoke differently. She wasn't anywhere near Esme, although she was still pretty. Her belly was not flat and her legs were a little thick behind her satin dress. Esme smiled at her from across the table, though it never really reached her eyes.

Bella looked at me again, a grin dancing on her lips.

_Why is she doing that?_

Edward pulled Bella toward him lazily, placing an arm around her shoulders as she stared at me intently. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, terribly uncomfortable, as an odd feeling began to well up inside me. I knew something was up, something very serious.

I looked at Esme, her beautiful face a beacon in my dazed confusion. The world seemed to dim as I downed another drink. My throat burned and somewhere, far off, I could hear Edward laughing at something.

"Honey, how about you slow down a little. You have work early tomorrow and I don't want to have to drag you out of bed," Esme whispered in my ear, her breath harsh against my ear. Her voice was urgent. She meant it.

But to a man who had never tasted the sweet kiss of alcohol, a little whisper would do nothing at all to calm the thirst within him. Alcohol was, as ridiculous as it might sound, very close to sex in the pleasure it gave me. I felt invincible.

Somewhere throughout the night a plate of food was set in front of me, but my body didn't urge me to eat it. Esme didn't pressure me again to stop ordering more drinks, more out of fear than anything else, I would guess. I could feel something monstrous approaching me and I knew she could feel it too.

"You alright, man?" Edward asked, staring at me oddly through the hazy lights.

Esme answered before I could open my mouth. "He'll be fine in the morning; he's just a little tipsy. You know how much he likes those goddamn drinks."

My eyebrows rose at the sound of my wife, my naïve, chubby little wife, using such harsh language. I almost laughed but a wave of nausea came over me too quickly, forcing me to keep my mouth firmly shut.

"I wish you the best of luck, my dear sister," Edward said quietly before standing up to kiss her on the cheek quickly. "He should be glad he has such a doting wife."

Esme laughed sharply and grabbed my arm, hoisting me out of the chair roughly. My legs felt like rubber sticks, flailing about me wildly and my vision swan with blurry bursts of light. I felt terribly sick but also incredibly happy. It was a peculiar feeling to say the least.

"Goodbye Bella, it was great seeing you again," Esme said kindly as she attempted to wrap an arm around the leggy brunette while still keeping a firm hold upon me.

"You as well, Esme. I suppose you'll both be at the gala on Friday?"

Esme genuinely smiled and nodded. "Of course. Carlisle's helping me pick out a dress tomorrow."

Bella chuckled and glanced at Edward. "If only men were helpful in that department. Oh, I almost forgot to remind you that this is the last week to sign up at the health club for this season. The girls and I would love for you to join us, you know. Who knows, maybe a little diet and exercise could change your life completely. "

Even in my drunken state I could see what an evil jab that was toward my wife. Esme, such a wonderful person at heart, kept up a good appearance and smiled, though I could tell she was deeply offended. A sad look passed over her eyes as she stared at Bella.

"I don't think so, Bella. As I have said before, I'm just not that kind of girl."

Bella shrugged and smiled innocently. "There's always next season. I'll see you both on Friday."

Esme nodded. Her grip on my arm tightening as her brother and sister-in-law walked out the restaurant hand in hand. Her eyes gleamed, tears threatening to leak from their brown depths.

"Let's go home. I'm tired," she whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

Esme P.O.V

I could feel it in my stomach the second my eyes opened. Something was wrong.

My vision was blurry at best, my eyes deaf in contrast to my normal acute hearing. The scent in the air was muted terribly, so muted I couldn't even smell my husband's scent, something that very rarely evaded me. The sheets beneath me were texture less, as was everything around me.

A soft beating sounded in my ears, and the need to be breathing was astoundingly present.

What I was experiencing, I realized after a moment (for my brain seemed to be running a bit slower) was the effects of being a _human_.

I stared at the ceiling for a moment, allowing the thought to sink into my brain.

A human. How odd it was to be something so vulnerable after being a vampire for nearly a century. It was exciting, terribly exciting, but also nauseating. I was scared.

A ragged breath tore from my lungs, my eyes intently focused on the ceiling as I thought everything out.

Of course the thought of this whole thing being some sort of mirage did indeed cross my mind, but the chance of that actually happening, and to a vampire mind at that, seemed very slim. No, this all seemed very real. It _was_ real. My senses were dim, but they weren't dead.

My erratic breathing must have woken Carlisle, who I hadn't even noticed was lying right beside me, for he stirred and sat up slightly, his face identical to the one I had always known. His skin may have been a shade or two tanner, but he still look awfully familiar.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and sent me a dazzling smile. My heart melted instantly and I sighed, relieved that he was also in this weird world.

"Good morning, lovely," he whispered, scooting closer to me. I was somehow able to smile a bit, even with the odd circumstances. I attempted to roll over a bit when I realized something. Something very strange.

I was naked.

Well, I had panties on from what I could tell.

So, really, only a bra was absent. And a shirt.

_This is getting so weird._

"Get up lazy, I promised you last night that I would go help you pick out a dress for today and I'm going to keep it. I'm planning on stopping by the gym on the way to the hospital and showering there, so you better jump in. I'll go get breakfast going if you want," Carlisle said, hopping out of bed. I got an eyeful of heavy, toned muscles and almost drooled.

_He's always looked good but never that good!_

I tried to sit up so I could get out of bed when I realized something else.

I was most certainly _not _in my normal body.

I angrily yanked the blankets that were tangled around me away, revealing the most horrifying image I had ever seen, besides maybe a few exact events.

Yes, it was _that bad_. Maybe even worse than that.

I was always the least slim person in the Cullen household, but I was still trim. I still looked thin to the everyday person. I was definitely not fat back then, but now I most certainly _was_.

Oversized breasts where reasonable C cups once were rested on a plushy stomach that seeped into my crotch and the beginning of my newly plumped thighs like thick marshmallow fluff. My arms, like rolls of dough, were met by two meaty hands with thickened fingers and bright red nail polish. Even my calves, which used to drive Carlisle crazy, had lost their perfect definition, ripening into twin pillars of fat.

Everything was fat and _disgusting_. Even my damned toes.

I was so surprised I screamed loudly and fell off the bed, falling to the floor with a solid thud. My body jiggled slightly, causing a wave of nausea to overtake me. I felt like I was going to throw up.

_How on earth can Carlisle, being the God that he is, stand to even be near me in this kind of state? What is he thinking?!_

"Esme! Good Lord, are you okay? What's wrong?" Carlisle, ever the perfect husband, rushed over to my side, assisting me as I tried to stand. Even that, such a simple task as standing, seemed to take double as much effort as it once did. I shakily stood, feeling utterly ashamed of my disastrous body with Carlisle so close to me.

"I-I'm huge, Carlisle. What the hell is wrong with me?" I asked weakly, too shocked to form my words without stuttering.

Carlisle rolled his eyes and ran his hand down my waist. I resisted the urge to hide myself from his touch and his view.

"We are not going back to that stage, Esme. I have told you repeatedly that I _prefer_ you larger rather than smaller. I thought you got over this years ago? What's brought it up again?"

I stuttered for a moment, unable to really say anything.

"It was someone at work, wasn't it? Assholes, the whole lot of them. You tell me their names and they'll regret saying anything to you at all."

"No, Carlisle, I-I."

"Shh, Esme, please just stop. We'll talk about it later. I don't want you getting worked up about it right now. You're obviously pretty upset so I won't bring up anything about it at the moment. But we're going to talk about it tonight, alright?"

For some reason I nodded and allowed him to guide me to the bathroom, which, like the bedroom, looked familiar to ours in Forks.

"Take a shower; it'll make you feel better. Remember, I love you," he said softly, before closing the door behind him.

I just stood there for a moment, glaring at the reflection staring back at me before looking around the bathroom, noting its unusual features that contrasted the familiar.

The bathroom was weirdly cluttered, something I wasn't used to seeing in my house, or apartment in this case. I didn't like it.

Bottles of various toiletries were scattered across the counters and the shower was overflowing with razors and empty shampoo bottles. Makeup cluttered the sink, plastic containers of expensive eye shadow and foundation covering the marble top. It was shameful to see my own living quarters in such a state of disarray, but I knew that as a human cleaning would be more difficult, especially with such an oversized and clumsy body. Not to mention working and taking care of children. I promised myself to get around to it sometime.

I yanked off the tiny pair of sheer pink panties I (for some reason), possessed, (I would get rid of those and anything related _today_) and threw them in a bin full of similar items. Staring at my body completely unclothed had never been a truly painful experience, (aside from my marriage to Charles where I had been disastrously skinny and hideously bruised) until now. I felt disgust boil inside me. I was so angry, so mortified at what I had become that I wanted to scream and run to Carlisle and plead with him to leave me for just a few months so I could somehow regain my old posture. Yes, I had become that desperate.

_You are a pitiful creature._

My reflection seemed to mock me, a constant reminder of a wish gone badly.

I had wanted this. _He_ had wanted this. We made a wish, doubting that it would ever cross our minds again and then this happens and everything is thrown into the wind.

We had thought of our greatest desires, what we wanted most were our lives to change for the better. We wanted children, of course. That was easy enough to be spoken aloud, but some things weren't. We didn't say everything, we _couldn't_ say everything aloud.

So, on that night, we just laid there, intertwined both physically and mentally, wishing furtively for a life much beyond our grasp at that moment. We wanted humanity, but this, _this_ was not what I was suspecting when I wished for such a thing. What happened to my desperate wish for children and a nice home (and a nice body)? Where did those wishes go? Why did this one come true?

I suppose all my thoughts clicked together at that moment, but If I were to say it twice I would say I knew it all along, but in truth I didn't. I didn't suspect a thing but my own bad luck.

_How sick is he?! My own husband wishes hell on his own wife, what a world this is!_

I was innately furious as I grabbed a towel from the rack and pulled it around my bloated form. I wasn't going to take a shower until Carlisle got a piece of my mind. He was obviously more familiar with this reality then me, but he would surely know what I was talking about. Surely he would understand my anger.

Storming from the bathroom, my thick arms wrapped around my torso tightly, supporting the towel and my tumbling breasts, I raced (as fast as I could at such an awkward size) out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where I found my husband pouring a cup of coffee. He gave me a weary smile when he saw me, raising one eyebrow in speculation as he sipped at the tar-black liquid.

"Why aren't you in the shower? I thought you'd be done by now."

I blinked a few times, my rage driven argument suddenly melting under his gaze, but not enough that I couldn't spit out a few catty lines.

"You made me this way, you sick, disgusting pervert," I said stoically as I opened my towel up a bit to show him my distended body. He stared at me; his eyes squinted in thought and mild frustration.

And then, suddenly, he laughed sharply and took a gulp of his coffee, his eyes swimming with mirth. A smile spread across his lips as I looked at him, my face obviously horrified by his lack of reaction to my insult.

_Surely that should've gotten his attention. It would've gotten mine. Maybe I wasn't harsh enough for him._

I tried again, this time with more force and emotion behind my voice.

"To think that you like seeing me this way makes me want to leave you this very second and never look back. Why should I even think about staying with someone who made me into a beached whale?"

It was a sensible enough question, but once again all my husband could do was laugh. I was beyond furious.

"Would you quit laughing?! I want you to answer my question right now!"

He rolled his eyes and smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Fine you want the honest answer?"

I nodded feverishly, a few tears building in my eyes. I was so angry.

"I didn't make you that way, Esme. Maybe I encouraged it sometimes, and yes, I'll admit, I told you once or twice at the beginning of our marriage that I enjoyed seeing women with a little meat on them, but I didn't force you to eat or to not exercise. You did that yourself, whether to please me or simply because you wanted to overeat and be lazy. Either way, it's not my fault, so don't blame it on me. I love you dearly but I won't allow you to stand there and berate me with irrelevant things. I just won't stand it."

I looked at him dumbly, his accusation jolting every fiber of my being. A part of me was furious that he would even think of saying something like that to me. What type of man treats his wife in such a humiliating way? But, I also saw reason within him. He didn't have the memories I had, obviously, which was why I couldn't truly blame him. It would be like blaming a child. He doesn't really know what is going on. For some reason, to him, we've always been this way.

Even so, I was still upset, both at his choice of words and my grotesque body.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Carlisle. Do you really think I would purposely ask for this body? Do you really think I have that little self-respect? Good Lord, it doesn't even matter anymore. I'm just truly surprised by your apparent love for lazy women. It's ridiculous. It's disgusting."

I knew I was being mean, but after living for so long with the same body (a trim size 3) I couldn't believe that my own husband was more turned on by the bloated form of a female rather than what is considered femininely attractive in modern society. It was quite the shocker to say the least.

"Oh, give me a break Esme. Stop dragging my preferences into this. As if yours don't have any show on my own body," he said, pointing at his well-sculpted chest and chiseled arms. They were absolutely gorgeous.

"Did I make you work out?" I asked, suddenly confused.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, but I wanted to make you happy. I knew that you liked strong guys so I decided to work out. I liked doing it too, so it really didn't bother me. It's kind of like how you enjoy eating and I enjoy your body. It's a win-win situation for both of us."

Slightly disturbed by his comment, I made a turn to leave, but Carlisle had grabbed my hand, pulling me back forcefully. I wriggled in his grasp as he pulled me into a tight embrace. With his intensified human strength and my apparent lack of muscle, I knew there was no way to get out of his grip, so I simply withstood his act of affection with mixed emotions.

He pulled my soft body against his, tenderly rubbing my back and caressing my tangled hair. It was weird, this feeling of melding into my husband's form like pudding. After being a block of marble for so long, the experience of being a human (and quite a pliable one at that) seemed shocking, but not all together uncomfortable or unwelcomed. It was actually, to my surprise, almost arousing.

I, of course, kept that comment to myself. Admitting that my body, the shell that I had deemed repulsive mere minutes ago, was anything but horrifying would not only wound my argument, but it would also cause me to worry for my own mental health.

No, I don't find my body alluring in any way, shape or form.

_Well, unless Carlisle's grabbing your butt and kissing your neck and shoulders. Then it's not too bad, right Esme?_

My breath caught as I realized what our 'hug' had turned into. Was this really a turn on for me? Was I really enjoying this?

My body was responding as it always did for my husband but for the first time, I didn't want it to. I yelled at my reactions mentally and tried to pry myself away from Carlisle, but every time I would try another moan would bubble up from my throat and I would once again be thrown into a wave of pleasurable emotions.

"Car…lisle," I ground out between kisses and groans. He nodded against my skin, his kisses becoming more forceful as I grabbed at his hair, furiously wanting to push him away but also to pull him in closer toward me. A part of me desired the thought of him worshipping my body, but a part of me repulsed the idea of him even seeing me naked. Once again, nausea built within my stomach as worry and desire filtered through my veins.

"Esme, Esme, Esme," he chanted, his lips brushing against my cheek, tentatively tickling the warm flesh there. "I love you and your body so much, more then you even know."

I knew he wasn't lying, but I wanted him to be. Oh, how I wanted him to be. I wanted him to hate my body as much as I did, so we could fix it together.

"We have time you know," he whispered in my ear.

_Humans have very little time._

All I could respond with was a breathy sigh as he carefully picked me up and raced to the bedroom, shedding his boxers and t shirt the second he plopped me down on the bed. My heart punched through my chest, each beat a steady reminder of the horrors I had created for myself.

As every second went by my nerves built tremendously, parallel to the arousal building within me that made me feel like I was going to explode from the pressure. A sticky film of sweat covered me as I awaited Carlisle, too scared and excited to move.

"So beautiful," he murmured, leaning down to pull the towel out from around me. I held on tightly for a few seconds, but finally relinquished my hold after he gave me a steely gaze with those crystal eyes. How could I stop him? I'm married to him, after all.

_You know you want it._

I did want it, but I was scared. So scared.

As if reading my mind, Carlisle shushed me gently and told me to calm down. He reassured me that to him I was lovely, but in my mind I still couldn't connect the thought that my gorgeous husband would want a fat girl. The two pieces didn't make sense.

But, never the less I allowed him to push me into the bed and allowed him to caresses my neck and shoulders and finally my oversized breasts and then...

"Stop! Get off me! I-I don't want this right now!"

It didn't sound like my voice, the scream that came from my lips. It sounded like a scared little girl, afraid of something she couldn't even see.

"Esme."

He looked down at me, his eyes a bright, but stark, blue. A breath escaped my lungs, coming out with a raspy sound. I was feeling sick again.

"This isn't like you. I'm worried."

A wave of guilt rose within me at his words. I had never denied my husband before, ever. We were always in sync; we always wanted the same thing. Then again, we had never been confronted with something of this caliber...

No, nothing had ever been this _difficult_ for me. Not even my time as a newborn. At least then Carlisle and I were on the same page. Now…not so much.

Carlisle moved to get up from his looming position above me, but I pulled him back down, my hands around his neck until his face was mere inches from mine. His breath felt warm on my skin, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling.

_You can do this, Esme. You can do this._

Our lips met, tentatively at first and then with unheeded passion. He moaned into me, his tongue seeking a dance of dominance with my own. I allowed him to lead, too distant to do it myself. I felt aroused, but at the same time terribly distant, as if I wasn't really _with_ Carlisle. It was almost like I was looking in on two lovers, but not actually participating in the act. The thought, contrasted with my own general self-disgust, was almost comforting.

"Beautiful," he whispered, snaking down my body until I was shaking, crying out for everything he could offer. A part of me, my actual body, wanted him desperately. My mind was already gone, wanting nothing to do with this practically adulterous act. I was torn, my body and mind firmly separated.

My hands held strong to his shoulders, my nails raking lines across his back like scarlet highways darting across his skin in random patterns. Sweat stained our bodies, slick and sticky, as we grabbled at each other, our flesh slipping through our weak hands like sand through an hourglass.

I unconsciously ground my teeth as the achingly familiar feeling echoed through my body, causing my back to arch beneath him and my toes to curl into the bed sheets. Pure pleasure washed over me in waves, my body convulsing as a silent scream pulled from my lips. My breath hitched as he froze for a second before releasing a loud sigh and falling down beside me, his arms looping around me, pulling me close.

I would have thought he was sleeping were it not for the soft kisses he laid across my back as we cuddled. For the first time that morning, a smile crept onto my face. I traced a few shapes on his hands and then leaned back so I could place a kiss on his lips. He looked at me, his heavy lidded eyes gleaming with a peculiar sadness.

"What's wrong?" I whispered suddenly.

He shook his head and smiled, his fingers coming up to brush away a few strands of sweaty hair from my face. "I'm so lucky to have you. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

"You would miss me," I murmured back. I suddenly felt ashamed for reacting so angrily, completely ignoring the fact that my husband of nearly a century still adored me. I felt stupid and ignorant and selfish.

"I would, desperately so."


	7. Chapter 7

Esme P.O.V

After a few minutes we got up, resisting the urge to lie there together the whole day. Oh how wonderful the thought sounded, but I knew, within myself, that there were things that had to be done. We were no longer eternal. Every minute was counted. I walked over to the bathroom and turned on the shower as Carlisle went back to the kitchen to start breakfast.

I looked in the mirror briefly, once again startled by the reflection staring back at me. But this time, I tried to focus on the things within my appearance that hadn't changed. I still had long, caramel colored hair that framed a soft, heart shaped face. My lips were still slightly full and painted a deep pink color without any makeup on, a miracle I had always appreciated, even as a vampire. My looks had not reverted back to my old human state, which was very surprising considering the circumstances. I was still impressively beautiful compared to the average human, as was Carlisle.

Looking at my body in the glass I choked back any negative thoughts, instead trying to focus on what I (and Carlisle) liked about the added pounds. Yes, there were a few things I liked quite a bit after making love to Carlisle with this plushy form. Bigger breasts didn't bother me, nor did my larger backside, which, in my opinion, had always been a bit small. I had, I realized after a few minutes of inspection, an overdramatic hourglass shape that reminded me a bit of a plumper Marilyn Monroe.

There were still parts of me that I didn't like. That was human, I understood that. No woman likes every single part of her body. Quite honestly, I didn't like the layer of fat surrounding my waist, or the light layer of stretch marks decorating my breasts, but they no longer made me want to vomit. They just were. Carlisle could handle them, which meant so could I.

I took a quick shower, washing my hair and shaving (what an experience!) before hopping out and getting dressed. My wardrobe had changed to say the least, but I was able to find something comfortable without too much trouble. I consciously tried not to look at the tags and the sizes, with little luck. I was curious, too curious not to notice that my bras were now F's (definitely an hour glass shape) and my clothes were mostly larges and extra larges instead of mediums and smalls. I struggled to smile as I noticed these small inconveniences. I tried to remind myself that they were just letters and numbers.

_Carlisle loves you. That's all that matters._

Yes, that's all that matters.

I yanked on a pretty lacy red bra and matching panties, both of which were very similar to something I once owned as a vampire. The thought was almost humorous as I admired my figure in the mirror, measuring the differences between my present body and my last, trim body. There no longer fit quite the same.

A thin tank top and a pair of shorts seemed reasonable enough for a speedy breakfast I decided. It was, after all, just Carlisle and I.

The thought of children raced across my mind before vanishing behind the sound of my husband's voice. I dismissed the worry with a quick 'we're still young' before meeting Carlisle in the kitchen.

"Quite the spread," I said appreciatively as Carlisle pulled a chair out from the table for me. I smiled at the delicious aroma of, what I for some reason knew was, waffles, maple syrup and sausage links. Carlisle sat a cup of coffee in front of me, its color already a pale brown with sugar and milk.

"Since you were so…upset I tried to make something nice. You know this is one of the only things I can actually make right." He laughed and poured two glasses of grape juice before fixing my plate for me and setting it down on the place mat. I breathed in the heavenly scent with excitement.

_I haven't eaten in almost a century. Starving doesn't even touch on how I feel right now._

Inhibitions thrown out the door, I dove into the meal with unbridled passion. Who knew food was so brilliant? As I wolfed down my fourth waffle I began to compare eating to the pleasure induced by sex, a feeling I knew (after a century of it) quite well. The comparison didn't seem too far off.

"Hungry this morning, aren't you?" Carlisle asked as his eyebrows rose slightly. He sipped at his coffee, a smile lingering on his lips.

_Sly bastard._

"I got my exercise in for the day. I decided I deserved a little fun," I supplied, drenching my final sausage link in the syrup leftover from the waffles.

Carlisle smirked. "You know I don't mind, don't you?"

"I'm starting to get that."

Carlisle snorted as he picked at the bowl of strawberries in the middle of the table. "I just thought we got over this a while ago. It was surprising to see it appear again, after all this time."

I took a deep breath, wondering what on earth to say.

"I know. I'm sorry, Carlisle."

I carefully stood up and walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me.

"You don't have to be sorry. You sacrificed something many women covet greatly. You're quite brave, Esme," he replied, smiling softly.

"All I need is your love, my dear," I murmured.


	8. Chapter 8

Esme P.O.V

"You know what? I really like that one. Might even be my _favorite_."

"Carlisle, you've said that about the past five," I replied, starting to become doubtful.

We had, after another (long) spell of kissing, finally made it out of the apartment and to a small dress boutique a few blocks away. We apparently had an appointment with a stylist of some sort, but I quickly decided I didn't need something of that sort. After living with Alice for so long, I knew what looked good and what didn't.

What I didn't know, as embarrassing as this sounds, was my dress size. I had picked out my clothes this morning, of course, and I _had_ noticed that I now fit in a large and or extra-large quite nicely, but for some reason I didn't look to see what size my dress would have to be.

Luckily for me, I was swiftly fitted, my ignorance surprising but not terribly suspicious. Carlisle laughed and asked me if I had slipped vodka into the grape juice this morning. I gave a nervous chuckle, too scared to actually say anything.

"16, honey," the petite seamstress said as she pulled in her tape measure. I suddenly felt terribly dizzy and would have fallen over were it not for Carlisle running up to grab me.

"Not what you were expecting?" the seamstress laughed. "Don't worry, happens all the time. Women come in here after having a couple of kids and are more than surprised not to find the number they remember from their wedding."

Carlisle nervously bit his lip and turned his attention away from the tiny lady.

"We don't have any kids," I said bluntly. "I guess I just got fat on my own, no children required." I shot her a sarcastic smile and began to walk toward the back, where the dresses were located.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I had no idea-"

Carlisle's elegant nature jumped in immediately as he hastily apologized for my obviously rude behavior.

"It's a sensitive subject for her, one she doesn't like to talk about. Try not to take it too personally, she doesn't mean it," he said softly as the woman nodded beside him.

"Understood. No need to apologize. If either of you need anything I'll be at the front. Don't hesitate to ask." She stared at me with solemn eyes before turning and walking away.

Which, is how I got here, standing in front of a mirror, staring at my reflection with a paralyzing mixture of emotions as Carlisle looks on like a common observer.

Carlisle had seen me in a dressing room before, of course, but here, in this world, it felt different. I was still uncomfortable, still unsure of myself and Carlisle watching didn't help that.

"I thought they all looked nice on you. Anything looks nice on you," he said softly.

A sudden feeling of guilt engulfed me as I turned from him to look back into the mirror, my reflection taunting me a bit.

"I'm sorry; I know you're paying attention. I'm just a little…stressed is all."

Carlisle nodded and glanced at the ground, a weird look passing over his face. He rubbed his hands together and look back up, his eyes catching mine as I looked over my shoulder, awaiting his response.

"I can tell."

I sighed loudly and began taking off the dress hastily. My patience had firmly snapped.

"Wait, Es…I'm sorry. I'm stressed too. Work has been really taxing lately and I feel a little out of it. Especially after last night. It's a miracle I'm not dying right now after how drunk I was." He paused and breathed in deeply as he toyed with his shirt sleeve. "I do love that dress. I think you look beautiful."

I forgave him quickly, not wanting anymore confrontation with him. We hardly ever fought, but when we did it could get ugly. I was still quite confused. I didn't want to add a rift between my husband and me to my level of stress.

I ended up buying the dress at Carlisle's insistence. It was beautiful, and I did like it quite a bit, but it didn't seem like something I'd normally wear. It looked young…too young for my old soul. I did, of course, like the way it accented my new and improved cleavage, but with so much skin showing it reminded me of something I would save for _Carlisle's_ eyes _only_. I worried about how it would go over at such a..._well attended_ ball.

"I will see you later, dear," Carlisle said as he kissed me swiftly before heading out the door with a final wave. I stared at his retreating form for a minute before turning to leave as well, intending to retreat back to the apartment before I realized something very important.

_I have to go to work._

After a quick look at my digital calendar earlier today, I learned that in this world, this incredibly altered reality, I have a real _career_. True, I have had various jobs over the years but never one that needed my attention five days a week, 9'oclock to 5'oclock. I worked when I felt like it. I would paint, or design when the inspiration hit.

A sudden wave of panic washed over me at the idea of being late to my "first day" on the job. I quickly found the name of the place on my phone and looked up directions just as fast. I glanced at the screen one more time and leaped out into the wave of people, my heels clicking along the concrete pavement faster than I thought, in this state, I could go. The city was buzzing with excitement as I raced along, my purse and phone in hand. The feel of sunshine across my skin was so utterly magnificent when compared to my years of confinement under the ever watchful eye of low hanging clouds. Although I was rushing, I still took a second to enjoy my new ability to withstand the sun like a normal person. All of this felt so normal, so _right_, like I had been doing this for years. The slight perspiration built up underneath my clothes, the slight ache in my feet from the ridiculous heels I had picked out (not expecting them to be so painful) , the breathless feeling and the massive number of people crowding around me, pushing me the wrong way as I shuffled to go upstream, yes this all felt right. So right. I was human, wasn't that always my final wish at the end of the day?

The walk, though torturous, wasn't too far and within a few minutes I was in the office I was, apparently, supposed to be in. It actually looked vaguely familiar, as if I might have seen it years and years ago with a human mind instead of the mind of a vampire. The memory was hazy at best but I was somehow able to navigate my way to what I believed to be my personal office. One look at the door name tag and my assumptions were proven correct.

"Esme, what on earth are you doing here so early? You had until after lunch to come in!"

A voice perked up behind me, a voice so familiar my bones shook within my skin. I knew that voice; I had been hearing it for quite some time around my house.

"Alice…" I said unsteadily, too scared of my own belief to turn around.

"You work too hard, Esme. Is it impossible for you to spend some time with Carlisle?"

It was definitely Alice. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked over my shoulder at the small, pixie like woman behind me. The first thing that came to mind was that she looked older, closer to my age then her previous nineteen.

Her hair was a bit longer now, closer to her shoulders then it previously was, but was still the same inky black color. She had always wanted longer hair. I was almost proud to see her with her desired length instead of the pixie cut.

Her clothes too seemed older, but still, as always, incredibly stylish. She smiled at me, ignoring my perplexed gaze. I was more than confused. I hadn't expected anyone else to fall down the rabbit hole with me, aside from Carlisle. Why was Alice here and not the others?

Just as the thought passed over my mind, Rosalie walked up behind Alice, a folder in her hand and a nervous smile plastered on her face. Another jolt passed over me as I stared at my first immortal daughter, her notable beauty as radiant as ever.

_So odd, to see them here. Then again, why shouldn't they be here? They are a part of my family just as Carlisle is._

"Esme, you're already in! I wasn't expecting to see you here this early. Anyway, I was hoping you would look over these designs like you promised you would. Do you have a minute?" Rosalie asked, handing me the folder. I stared at her dumbly for a moment before slowly taking it from her and tucking it into my bag.

"Um, we got finished earlier than I expected. He liked one of the first dresses I put on, so…I was able to come in earlier. I have…um…a lot of work to do, but I'll look over your designs for you, Rosalie."

Rosalie smiled rather warmly. "I've told you a million times, you can call me Rose. It's faster and it sounds more modern. Rosalie sounds like a grandmother's name."

Alice nodded her agreement. "At least yours can be shortened. I'm stuck with Alice and Esme's stuck with hers." She paused for a minute before glancing back at me, another smile tugging at her lips. "Since you came so early, do you want to get some coffee before starting up the day's work?"

I easily could have declined, but since I didn't really know what I had to work on I eagerly agreed. Plus, I always loved to spend time with my girls.

We walked down a block to a tiny coffee shop nestled in-between a hipster clothing store and a knockoff jewelry shop. It was cute in an old-fashioned kind of way and I instantly liked it. The place reminded me of a past decade I had lived through, though I couldn't pin it on just one.

Alice and Rosalie both ordered a chocolate latte, and I, not knowing what else to order, got the same. A twinge of hunger gnawed at my stomach as I stared at the pieces of cake and individually wrapped cookies sitting in the glass shelf beneath the counter. Biting my tongue and suppressing my urge for food, I paid for the coffee and went to sit with Alice and Rose.


	9. Chapter 9

Esme P.O.V

"I think I'm addicted to caffeine, guys," Alice said chirpily, sucking down her hot coffee faster than Rose or I could sip. Rose laughed at her and rolled her eyes.

"I think I'm addicted to sex. I swear, I just couldn't keep my hands-"

"We get it Rose! Nobody wants to hear about what you do with Emmett in your free time!" Alice shot back quickly, pretending to plug her ears with her fingers. Rose rolled her eyes again and crossed her arms.

I laughed then, a true genuine laugh that would have made the old me smile, for at that moment I knew I was where I truly belonged. I was happy. Well, I was happy aside from the _grueling_ headache I was having. It felt like my brain was splitting in two.

"Well, I know what Esme's addicted to!" Rosalie retorted, a sour expression on her face. "Your addicted to Marlboros!"

I smiled instantly and chuckled at the notion of myself smoking. "Okay, whatever you say Rose."

Alice, the sneaky little girl that she is (or was), grabbed my purse from the chair it was sitting on beside me and dumped its contents on the table. My eyes instantly widened as I saw the mountain of empty cigarette cartons and candy wrappers.

_Are you trying to kill yourself, Esme?!_

"Oh my God, I didn't even know all of that was in there…I-I truly didn't know…"

I must have sounded crazy, as both of them just stared at me with perplexed faces. I hope I hadn't blown my cover too quickly. I didn't want them to put me in the loony bin for not remembering my own life.

"I mean, um, I thought I threw them away. I didn't want Carlisle to seem them. He would kill me." My words sounded awkward to my own ears, but I hoped they would suffice for Alice and Rose.

As soon as I saw a smile begin to grown upon their faces I knew I was free from their ridicule.

"He might not be mad about the candy wrappers, but he would be mad that you're still smoking," Alice said as she ushered the trash back into my bag.

"As if he doesn't know! She smokes so much, surely her clothes smell like it every day she comes home!" Rosalie scowled at me from across the table, before allowing it to turn into a soft frown as she continued. "But, if he doesn't care that much, then you shouldn't stop. He doesn't rule your body, you know? You can do whatever you want."

I knew that smoking was bad for humans. I knew the side effects and I knew what it would do to my body. But, even so, I still grabbed my purse from Alice's hand, and fished through it until I found a full carton of cigarettes and a purple colored lighter. I lit the thing right there in the middle of the shop, and took a long drag, my headache instantly relieved by the delicious smoke. It felt amazing.

_So this is why people smoke! To feel good!_

"See! What did I tell you guys? She can't go a full hour without smoking one of those things! I swear, we need to stop such a bad habit," Rose said, her hands flying as her dialogue got heated. Alice shrugged beside her.

"It's her life and body, remember, Rose?"

It was Rose's turn to shrug. "I just don't want her to get cancer, or some shit like that."

"If anyone's going to die soon it's going to be Carlisle, from getting hammered every night…" Alice murmured softly as she finished off the rest of her coffee. Her dark brown eyes danced across the room, avoiding my rampant gaze. Something was wrong.

_Carlisle drinking? Hardly his style…and yet, here I am smoking a cigarette, thirty pounds overweight! Who am I to say anything about him?_

"I think my husband and I can handle ourselves just fine, don't you?"

I put out the cigarette I had been smoking in a nearby ash tray and grabbed my bag. I was more than ready to go. 

"I think we need to get back to work, girls. We have a lot of stuff to get done," I said as I stood up, directing them to do the same.

"Just when we were getting comfortable with the boss," Alice chimed, tossing away her empty cup. "This always happens."

Rose grinned at her friend, "That's what good bosses do. We try to infiltrate her life, and she stands strong." She glanced back at me, smiling slightly. "I have to admire that sometimes."

From there, the rest of the work day flew by fast. Having had designed for so many years for so many different tastes, it was more than easy to review a couple layouts and plan some basic blueprints. I ate a quick (ish) lunch at a sandwich place next door with Alice and finished off my work day with a slice of cake from that cute coffee shop and a cigarette in my office before packing everything up to go.


	10. Chapter 10

Esme P.O.V

Carlisle was still at work by the time I got home, so instead of cuddling with my hubby for the evening like I normally did, I opted for sitting in front of the TV for a few hours, listening to the droning voices of news anchors and game show hosts, my lap top poised on my knees.

I noticed all my social media, which had always been temporary and strictly monitored, had changed drastically since yesterday. My name was still the same on Facebook and Instagram, but instead of having a few photos, mostly of Nessie or Carlisle, I had hundreds of photos cataloguing my life up until just a week ago. I saw pictures from my 'college days' at Stanford and pictures from Carlisle and I's wedding, where I was, not surprisingly, much trimmer. New facts poured into my brain as I processed all of the new memories and information. None of it seemed to be real. The pictures of my smiling face alongside my family and friends…it all seemed so…surreal. Too good to be true.

I slammed the laptop shut and tossed it to the other side of the couch, a sudden anger building up inside me. _I_ wanted to experience those memories. Why did this weird, alternate-me get to have such a normal, human life while I had to live as a damned immortal? Where's the fairness in that?

All those pictures of me, and yet…that person was not _me_. It was a stranger I've never met. I didn't marry Carlisle on a beach in a strapless dress a few years ago after meeting him in college. I married Carlisle a century ago in a church in an incredibly modest dress after awakening to him after so long…that was me. That was the Carlisle I knew.

But, I feel at home here. I like it for the most part. After the initial shock of everything happening so quickly, I became accustomed to and began to enjoy the regular throes of modern, human life. It is disturbing though, and heart wrenching, that someone else got to experience all the wonderful moments that came before the ones I'm experiencing now. I'll always wish for those.

"You're home early, honey."

I hadn't even heard the key turn in the lock or Carlisle's foot steps behind me before he was in front of me, pulling me up from the couch by my hands and wrapping me in a tight embrace, his lips against my ear as he spoke softly.

"I missed you today. You didn't call me on my break; I was worried about you all day. I even tried to call you once and you didn't pick up. Was work bad again?" he asked, his grip around my waist tightening.

I let go of him gently, pushing him back as easily as I could. I smiled slightly as his hand snaked down to my backside, cupping my butt, forcing me closer to him. He seemed desperately protective, more so than I had ever seen him before. Something must have happened.

"I'm sorry, I must have lost track of the time. I was quite busy with some new projects. How was your day?" I asked, trying to direct his attention away from my body for a few seconds.

His happy expression instantly faded and was quickly replaced by a solemn look that had me wondering what on earth had happened to my husband. He was hardly ever this worked up over something. As a vampire, he was quick to forgive almost anything.

Almost.

"It's…" he sighed deeply, his hands dropping to his sides as he walked to the kitchen to grab some plates. He had brought home a couple pizzas on his way home, a true blessing as I really didn't feel like cooking anything tonight. I went to help him, but he told me to just sit down and that he would handle it. I leaned back on the sofa, tentatively biting my lip.

"It's Bella again."

He handed me a glass of wine and a plate loaded with various types of pizza, a napkin folded underneath it. He kissed the top of my head softly before sitting down beside me, a plate and glass of his own in either hand.

"What is Bella doing?" I asked quietly. I sipped at the wine. It was quite delicious, surprisingly enough. I had forgotten what a wonderful thing alcohol could be, if used correctly of course. Drunkenness was not something I would ever readily condone as a vampire after suffering through life with Charles and I most certainly won't condone it here as a human. After hearing Alice and Rose attack Carlisle on the grounds of his apparent 'drinking problem' I'm worried about him, especially as he downs his second glass of red wine like a baby with a bottle, but, as always, there's little I can do. He's his own man and his own keeper.

"She's…you know. This has happened before, a couple months ago, remember? I told her to stop; I promise I did, but she's ruthless in her attacks against me. It's beginning to interfere with my life, Esme. She came to the hospital today. She came into my office without Edward noticing. I had a half a mind to call Edward down but I just told her to leave. And to think I thought she was over this crazy infatuation…"

"Infatuation? She tried to…make a move on you?" My tone was already thick with jealously. Fury began to build within my bones. _No one_ takes my husband away from me. _No one_.

"More than that. I mean, last time she just told me that she was…attracted to me and that we could keep an affair a secret easily. But this time, she came in with more fury. She said I was leading her on last night, which, since you were there, you know is not true. I was pretty drunk, but I wasn't leading her on. And then…and then she said I should leave you and that she was prepared to leave Edward."

My drink slipped through my hand, automatically breaking into a million fragments on the hardwood. The fragments caught my reflection, a poor face with tears brimming on its eyes. His words cycled through my mind in an endless raid against my fragile emotions, as if on a mission to make me break down in front of him. I couldn't, no I wouldn't, break down in front of him, my strong husband. I would look tough in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, I'll clean that up," I said, making a move to stand up. Carlisle's hand clenched down on my arm, halting my escape. He shot me a hard look and I stopped trying to flee. It wouldn't do much now anyway; the tears were already sliding down my face in warm wet streaks. I mentally scolded my weakness and Carlisle's strong grip, physically and mentally.

"I'll do it later. It doesn't matter now. What matters is talking about this problem now so it doesn't arise later. I can't allow Bella to tear us apart." He wiped a tear off of the bottom of my chin, rolling the liquid around on his fingertips as If inspecting a piece of my soul hidden within my sadness. "I won't let her do that, Esme, and I want you to know that. I don't care if she is your sister in law, I will tear her to pieces if she causes any tension between us."

"She won't. I won't let her get that satisfaction. But we can't just go on and act like this never happened. We need to talk to her and Edward," I reminded him. Carlisle nodded, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"We will, I promise. But, right now, I really need to get my mind off of what happened. I need to remind you how beautiful I find your body," he said slowly, his hand gently massaging my leg as he spoke. He licked his lips and began kissing my neck softly, and then with more force, as if to prove his spoken point.

"Carlisle, I haven't even finished eating," I groaned, pulling away from his magnetic touch as I went for my plate of pizza. I was actually pretty hungry, but more then that I was too worked up over this whole incident to fall into my husband's arms without a second thought. Doubts had been planted in my head, and although I knew Carlisle loved me dearly, the thought of another woman (and Bella at that!) trying to seduce him was beginning to thoroughly upset me. Sex wasn't going to magically fix that.

"You know what?" he asked, smiling dumbly as he hopped up from the couch, his erection in plain view. I raised an eyebrow at him.

_He better not ask me to suck his cock._

"Did you buy that ice cream I asked you to pick up at the store?"

I shrugged, not really knowing what to say to him, as either way I could look to be lying in his eyes. "I don't remember. I do a lot every day," I said softy as he raced to the kitchen and began rummaging through the fridge with eager excitement.

I bit into a slice of pizza as I waited for him, the greasy cheese surprisingly delicious. I took another hasty bite as I stared at him, wondering what on earth he had in store for the rest of the night.

_ He did always have a talent for getting creative when the need arose, no pun intended._

I was still upset, but my melancholy attitude was subtly fading into something akin to curiosity. Carlisle has always had the power to do that to me. No one but me tends to see this more inventive and rather funny side of the normally quite serious doctor, which makes it all the more special when it comes out.

He realized I was upset and he wanted to try and make me feel better. I have to give him credit for that.

"Well darling, you must have remembered because I see two cartons in here…one rocky road and the other mint. I'm going to guess you would rather have the rocky road, am I correct?"

I smiled at him and nodded. I had found out earlier today, after eating a piece of chocolate cake at the office, that chocolate was quite delicious. By far my favorite new food as a human. My mouth practically watered as Carlisle held up the carton with a grin.

"Just throw the pizza in the fridge," I told him as I got up, my muscles groaning in protest.

_They never said humans had it easy, Esme._

"I think I'd rather have ice cream first."

Carlisle smiled and ushered me through the kitchen and the hallway into our bedroom where he immediately set down the carton of ice cream on the dresser and began peeling off his clothes, starting with his socks and shoes. He eyed me as he began undoing his tie with swift and graceful movements. I could tell he was wondering why I wasn't copying his own actions as I stood In front of the bed awkwardly.

_He always used to undress _me_._

"Honey, what are you doing?"

I hadn't noticed I had been staring at my feet while Carlisle finished undressing in front of the doorway. I looked up to see him completely bare and suddenly my skin felt very hot and the room felt terribly small and my clothes felt terribly tight and my mind felt terribly numb.

And then he was right beside me, pulling me down onto the bed with his strong arms, hovering above me as if in a forbidden dance. I felt his hand run its way up the inside of my thigh, underneath my tweed skirt as he tried to get a hold of the material. "I get it; you want me to do all the work tonight. Well I'm happy to oblige."

He found the zipper and worked the fabric down my plumped waist and over my legs, down to my feet where he promptly pulled it off, along with my sheer stockings and heels, both of which I had neglected to take off when I arrived home earlier. As a vampire, they were plenty comfortable, but as a human, those heels were rather unbearable after a few hours. Relief flooded through my toes as Carlisle threw the stilettos to the other side of the room.

He ran his hands up my legs to my blouse and began unbuttoning it quickly, massaging the increasing amount of skin he uncovered as the seconds ticked by. I allowed him, hardly paying attention as I stared at the ceiling numbly. I was beginning to feel disconnected again. Once again, his touch became a nasty reminder of not only my new form, but of his immaculate body. Why was he so close to God in beauty while I could only dream?

"Baby, if you're not into this we can go do something else. You don't seem really…interested," he said, his hands suddenly stilling above the final clasped button on my shirt.

I sighed and glanced at him, almost annoyed. "I'm interested."

He looked at me weirdly and got up from his position above me. "You don't look interested. Is something wrong? Are you still worked up over what happened this morning?"

I thought he was going to get dressed again and leave me alone for a bit, but instead he just grabbed the carton of ice cream and came back to the bed, a slightly worried expression on his face as he straddled my waist. "You know I love you, Esme. I was thinking about this all day at work. I think you're beautiful."

_ Now's he's really trying._

"I know you do."

He reached down and finished undressing me, pulling the remainder of my clothes off and tossing them across the room. He smiled as he stared down at me, brushing away a few stray strands of hair as he caressed my cheek.

"I think you're so beautiful, and sweet and kind and funny. I love you."

I was about to answer, but my reply was cut off as Carlisle placed the cold spoon he was holding on my right nipple, his other hand clamping down on my other breast tightly. I couldn't stop from moaning as he teased both of my nipples into alertness and situated himself between my legs, so he was almost touching my entrance. He reached for the ice cream and opened it swiftly, spooning out a large scoop with the utensil and holding it up to my mouth. Eagerly, I sucked the chocolaty mixture off the spoon and panted, awaiting more.

Carlisle laughed and fed me another spoonful, allowing a small drop to land on my breast. Our eyes met briefly as he leaned down to lick the chocolate spot, eliciting a slow groan form my throat. I couldn't help it this, _this_, reminded me so much of what our relationship was like before. Carlisle loved to do little things to spice up our love life, and although ice cream probably wouldn't have had anything to do with it before, it made perfect sense now. I reveled in this newfound parallel and rejoiced in the familiarity of my husband. This was the man I loved. This was the man I knew.

Carlisle didn't stop spoon feeding me until the carton was completely empty. By that time my legs were practically trembling with want and my breathing had become erratic and strained. I was dying for a release, and my fully erect husband was more than willing to give it to me.

He thrust into me in one swift jerk and we moaned in mutual appreciation. He rocked above me for a few seconds before gripping my upper torso with both hands and flipping me above him, so he was on the bottom. Amazed at his strength (when compared to my own) I just stared at him for a moment, awe struck by my spectacle of a husband.

He grabbed my shoulders and began thrusting upward roughly, hitting that perfect spot every single time. Although it wasn't my normal body, and although it still felt very foreign to me, I was beginning to become accustomed to it in brief moments. For a second or two, it would feel as if I had never been a pound skinner, and then I would be back to normal, a distant feeling within me once again.

But here, in this moment, as I loomed above my husband, bountiful breasts bouncing beneath my plushy stomach with every thrust, I couldn't hate myself. I just couldn't. I couldn't hate what Carlisle got so excited over. I loved what Carlisle loved. It had always been that way.

"Esme…Esme…Esme…" Carlisle chanted my name as he pushed into me one last time. I hit my high just as Carlisle hit his, our screams echoing one another. I felt him release inside of me and pull out a moment later, a stream of warm, sticky liquid sliding down my inner thigh. I looked down at his grinning face and couldn't help but laugh.

"That was…_amazing_…" he panted, still a little out of breath.

"I agree."

He pulled me down from above him and placed me carefully beside him. He caressed my belly and breasts softly, tugging at my nipples as I moaned softly, utterly exhausted by our workout. No wonder humans are always so tired; one round of sex is enough to make me want to sleep for a week.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I searched his blue eyes for a moment, wondering whether or not, just for a second, he knew my secret.

"Hmm…now I am," I murmured, reaching up to touch his cheek gently.

He sighed but smiled slightly. "Are you sure? You've been so upset today. I'm worried about you."

If the roles were reversed I suppose I would have been worried about Carlisle, so I understood where he was coming from. And, to be honest, if he had asked me before that explosive sex I probably would have told him that I felt disconnected from him and from this life. But now…let's just say I feel _very_ connected to my husband.

"Don't be worried. I love you more than anything. Don't ever doubt that, Carlisle Cullen. Just know that I love you regardless of anything else."

He nodded and made a move to get up from his position beside me. I thought about grabbing him and not allowing him to leave, but I knew he had work to get done before going to work tomorrow, so I let him leave. He kissed my head softly and walked back to the kitchen, a low slung pair of sweats around his waist.


	11. Chapter 11

Esme P.O.V

I tried to close my eyes and sleep for a bit, but I was too excited and ended up just getting up and walking around the room for a bit. I rifled through my closet for minute, inspecting the various styles and sizes before noticing the pack of cigarettes hidden in a pair of red high heels. I picked it up and opened the top, and, almost subconsciously, took one out. I grabbed a lighter that I had also noticed within the depths of my closet and lit the thin stick. A wave of calmness washed over me as I took a deep drag.

I knew, from what Alice and Rose had said earlier today, that Carlisle didn't approve of my apparent smoking habits, but at that moment I didn't really care. The feeling was divine and the guilt hadn't begun to sink in.

I finished that cigarette, put it out in a glass on my dresser and lit another one. I had sat down on the bed, no longer afraid of Carlisle's condemnation whatsoever, though I had shut the door, just to be sure.

I sensed his presence before I actually heard him, and I, a slow human with even slower reflexes, didn't have time to do much of anything before he was standing right in front of me, his arms crossed and his eyes like steel.

"Esme," he said slowly, as if I was too stupid to know my own name or be able to respond to it. "You know I told you to stop months ago."

_No, I don't remember that actually._

"I'm sorry Carlisle, but you don't get to pick and choose what unhealthy activities you want me to partake in," I said, taking another drag. I suddenly wasn't feeling so inviting. Suddenly I was feeling very defensive.

"Don't pull that shit with me, Esme," Carlisle hissed, yanking the cigarette from my hand and throwing it into the glass with the other one. I watched it go out, a mixture of disgust and anger on my face.

_You are welcome to get fat Esme, but I don't want you smoking. Really Carlisle? Really?_

"I told you I didn't want you smoking and now, here you are, smoking in our goddamn apartment. What am I supposed to think, Esme?" he asked, his hands mere inches from me. I glanced at him placidly and began inspecting my nails absentmindedly.

"You're supposed to think that I'm a twenty-six year old woman who can handle herself just fine without your constant input."

I thought it was a pretty sturdy reply, which was why I was confused when Carlisle looked at me, completely perplexed.

"Esme, you're twenty-seven. You have been for months. What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?" he asked sharply. The news rang in my ears with startling clarity.

_I'm finally twenty-seven! I've been waiting a while for this day…_

A smile tugged at my lips as I realized what this meant. There was no turning back. I wouldn't wake up tomorrow, a vampire once more. Being older then my immortal age meant I was here to stay, which, I had quickly decided, was for the best, despite everything wrong that had happened thus far.

"I suppose I should be easier on you," Carlisle said. He got crouched down so he was face to face with me. I smiled softly and he laughed awkwardly.

"This day has been hard on you, what with this morning and then Bella…" His voice trailed off, his tone gentle but stern. I nodded, urging him to continue.

"But, even so, you've just been acting strange, Esme. And I took enough psychology classes to know that you're not acting solely on stress. Actually, it almost seems like you hardly even care about what happened with Bella." He bit his lip and turned from me slightly, looking out the window toward the bustling city.

"I was crying in the living room over her," I whispered tersely, tears, once again, threatening to leak. He looked at me through squinted eyes, shaking his head slowly.

"That's not how you cry, Esme. We've been married for four years and I've never seen you 'shed a few tears'. You always sob and you always lean into my shoulder. Always." He paused for a moment, staring at the ground before looking back up at me. His gaze was like a laser and I almost flinched away from him. "It's like you're a different person."

"Carlisle, please, I'm sorry about smoking I'll try to st-"

"No! Stop!" he said suddenly, jumping up from his position on the floor. A bolt of fear raced up my spine as I leaned back on the bed, almost truly afraid. Surely he wouldn't cross the line…the line Charles had made so long ago. Then again, Charles never existed here. He could do anything.

"I don't want to hear it, Esme. I want you to tell me the truth. You've been weird all day, what with whining about your figure this morning and then you left work early, which never happens, and then you nearly refused sex _twice_ today, which truly never happens, and then you weren't even that upset over Bella practically drooling on my lap today. And you've been talking weird, saying things you wouldn't normally say, and you wore that outfit to work, which is _so unlike you_, to be honest I don't even know where you got it." He gestured to the button up top and tweed skirt he had pulled off me less than thirty minutes ago. I raised my eyebrows at him, mentally deciding what I would have to say to avoid confrontation.

_If you tell him everything you'll be in a hospital by tonight. Think wisely._

I had put on a robe after Carlisle and I were done making love, a short, silky thing that would have made me blush were the circumstances different. Biting my tongue, I untied the front and pulled it off my right shoulder, allowing him a peek at my breast. Carlisle's eyes darkened and he sat back down on the bed, his hand going to my foot and then my calf. He massaged the flesh delicately, his expression softening as I pulled off the robe completely, flinging it across the room. I tried to hide my anxiety by sending his a sensual smile.

"I think my hormones are messed up. I have been acting strange," I said. Carlisle shrugged and sank down to kiss my stomach and chest, his lips leaving a hot path all the way up to my nipples. Without the nerves, I would definitely be in complete bliss.

"I-I…maybe I overreacted again," he whispered.

"Maybe we have someone on the way," I said quietly, placing a hand on my stomach.

It took Carlisle less than a second to pin me to the bed by my throat, one hand on my neck and the other forcefully holding my torso down. Without even looking at his face I knew I had slipped. I had made a terrible mistake.

_A nerve has been touched._

"What are you?" He placed a knee between my legs and used the hand that had once been holding me down to grab my chin, forcing me to look at him directly. He was quite frightening as he hovered over me, his body all rigid muscle and angular lines. I felt like a stupid woman trying to fool this fierce man.

"Who are you? Because you're not my wife. She would have never made such a cruel and disgusting joke. How can you look like her?" he barked, his grip becoming increasingly tight. He leaned forward, pressing down on my chest painfully, crushing my already incredibly sensitive breasts.

_Is he trying to kill me?_

I tried to turn my head, to look the other way, but I couldn't, his hand bound too tightly on my jaw. I could feel the inevitable tears building as ghastly memories of Charles and his beatings drowned my mind like a never ending wave. My eyes burned, salty drops leaking from them as Carlisle yelled at me from above.

_I can't take much more of this. I'm going to break._

"Why are you crying? You're not my wife. None of this matters to you. None of it. Would you stop crying?"

I didn't even realize I was sobbing my eyes out, a torrential flood of tears marring my face in warm streaks. I was shaking too, my body out of control as sobs racked my very core, causing me to toss and turn within Carlisle's grasp. I felt sick and disgusting. With snot running from my nose and my heart pounding in my head, I felt just like an insolent child.

"Please stop crying," he whispered harshly, thrashing me with one hand. But still, my tears ran, my emotional levee finally broken. I couldn't hold it back any longer. The high had passed and the low had come to stay.

"Please stop. Stop. Stop. Stop." His voice became a little less than a murmur as he repeated himself over and over. "Stop, stop, stop, stop." An endless current of the same thing. The monotony only made me cry harder and soon, after a few minutes, we were both crying, him on top of me, his hands finally releasing his captor, his wife. I felt anything but free. I felt trapped by my own adoration. I couldn't leave.

"I'm so s-sorry. I-I'm so sorry I lost myself for a second. I didn't mean to hurt you, did I hurt you?" Carlisle looked up for a second, his face a blurry mess as I tried to focus on his eyes. The tears within my own made the act incredibly difficult.

"I'm o-okay. You didn't b-bruise me t-t-too b-bad." The stuttering was foreseeable, but the lying wasn't.

_Hadn't you always said you wouldn't be treated like this again? What happened?_

"I-I'm sorry. Y-you're still you. You r-repress painful things. We all do." He ran a hand through my hair and told me to stay still for a second. I felt him get up from beside me and heard him walk to the bathroom. He came back a second later, his eyes still red and puffy, though I could hardly see the rest of his features in the dimly lit room. The curtains were closed and somewhere through our argument Carlisle had turned out the lights. I knew I must have looked like a wreck, what with most of my makeup dripping down my cheeks, but I could hardly find the want to care in the pool of apathy within me. I felt drained and tired.

Carlisle sat back down on the bed. He helped me sit up and, as though he were lifting a glass doll, he placed me between his outstretched legs, so my back was to him. He placed a hand on my belly, kneading the fat there in an almost soothing way. I was a little revolted by his ministrations, but allowed him to continue, not wanting to disrupt the peace that had reappeared.

After a few seconds his hand left my midsection for a moment, and I, surprisingly enough, missed his touch. I was startled by my own subconscious not for the first time today.

He brought out a bottle of lotion that he must have retrieved form the bathroom and squirted a generous amount on his hand. The cold mixture hit my back as he began methodically massaging the muscle. I hadn't even noticed how terribly sore I had become throughout the day from doing…practically nothing. Even so, the feeling of Carlisle's hands on my back, working out all those terrible knots and twists was rather marvelous.

_God, my back feels horrendous. What did I do today?_

"My back…_really_ hurts," I said quietly. I looked over my shoulder and saw Carlisle shrug.

"I need to get you some better bras. Like I've said numerous times, I don't want you wearing those lacy, colorful ones if they hurt your back. I'll go with you to pick out some over the weekend if you want."

I gritted my teeth together and forced a smile. Of course the awful back pain would be from the giant _things_ I have to carry around all day. What else would it be from in this world? I looked down at them, wondering if Carlisle actually found them attractive. They were lined with blue veins and white stretch marks and their residual fat covered my once quite prominent collar bones. They were more of a bother than anything else.

"That would be lovely. I'd like that very much."

He finished massaging my aching muscles and placed the bottle of lotion on the nightstand. Slowly, he maneuvered himself so I was no longer between his legs, but beside him, on my side of the bed.

"Goodnight, Esme."

And then everything was silent and dark. Even though I could feel Carlisle breathing beside me, I suddenly felt alone and cold. I pulled the sheets closer around me and closed my eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

Carlisle P.O.V

Esme was still asleep when I awoke the next morning. I smiled at her and rubbed her back gently until she roused from her slumber. She sat up slowly, a sleepy grin on her face. Seeing her like that, her natural, _human_ beauty shining through like a beacon of hope on the horizon…I felt like the luckiest man in the world.

All because of a little wish we made.

She blinked a few times, her brown eyes soft and creamy, the color of a warm hot chocolate. She leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips before abruptly turning away.

"Carlisle," she said tersely. "I'm still disappointed in you."

She swiftly got up from the bed, allowing me a quick glance at her bare backside before she grabbed a robe and slid it on, covering up her porcelain skin from my greedy eyes. She looked at me with slight exasperation and headed to the bathroom, leaving me to question myself.

_What did I do now?_

"Esme, is something the matter?" I asked hesitantly as I followed her into the bathroom. She waved her hand dismissively and bended over to turn on the shower.

"I just wanted to tell you that I forgive you after what you did last night. It was…frightening to say the least but I forgive you. You're still a good man."

She was turned around, so I couldn't read her facial expressions, but it definitely sounded like she was about to cry. Guilt began to well up inside me as I remembered the night before.

_You got drunk and now she's mad. You always said you wanted to be human, well here you go._

"I…I'm sorry for loosing myself like that. It was irresponsible. I'm sorry, very sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with that." I chose my words carefully and awaited Esme's answer with an air of patience.

She turned toward me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from crying myself. How could I have been so stupid as to go out and get drunk in public? In front of my wife at that!

"I'll pour out all the alcohol we have in this apartment today. I promise."

In an instant, her face contorted terribly with a mixture of disgust and confusion. She began walking toward me slowly, her hands in fists beside her. "You were drunk last night? Are you serious? You threatened me, held me down on the goddamn bed, while you were hammered?" She paused for a moment, expecting an answer of which I couldn't provide. I stood there, dumbfounded, as she continued on her raid against me. "I swear Carlisle, you reprimand me for _smoking_ and yet you can get _drunk_ and practically _beat _me and you expect me to just act like it never happened in the morning. I was willing to forgive you…I still am, but you're going to have to step up, Carlisle. You better treat me like a princess tonight, or you're going to find your damsel in distress running off with a different prince."

She promptly took off her robe and got in the shower, pulling the curtain closed with a certain amount of disdain. I stood there, staring at her silhouette through the thin plastic, wondering what I could possibly say to make up for any of her ludicrous accusations.

_Did I really do that? Did I really hold her down? Oh my God, I hope I didn't rape her in my drunken stupor. I would never be able to forgive myself._

"I'm sorry I drank so much at the restaurant. I wasn't…I just wasn't thinking. Please Esme, I really don't remember much. I remember you practically dragging me home to bed and then…I thought I fell asleep. I didn't know I woke up."

Esme's shadow stopped suddenly. She poked her head out from around the curtain, her eyes, once again, conveying true confusion.

"What on earth are you talking about, Carlisle? I'm not mad about Wednesday night. You get drunk all the time. I was mad about last night, when you…you said I was acting strange, which I was, but then you got so angry. And then the whole Bella thing…"

She sighed dramatically and shut the curtain again. "I forgive you, Carlisle. But I expect better behavior from someone who retains such good composure throughout the day. I'll see you when I'm done."

I sat in our room on my laptop, flipping through old pictures as I sipped at a cup of coffee. I didn't know it when I woke up this morning, but I knew now that it was not Thursday, the twenty-fifth, but Friday, the twenty-sixth. I had missed a day.

I had a few theories as to how something like that would happen, and all of them seemed to revolve around real medical issues. Alzheimer's. Corticobasal Degeneration. Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. Frontotemporal Dementia. The list goes on, but none of them seemed to match my particular criteria. I was not an elderly man. I was in impeccable health, by what I could tell. I had not suffered recent brain trauma. So what was wrong with me?

It never occurred to me that Esme, my wonderful, beautiful wife, was suffering from the same puzzling disorder until she came out of the shower and told me some interesting news.

She had pulled her hair up in a towel and put on a different robe, this one more substantial and colored pink. Gracefully, she sat down on the bed with me, her soft figure molding to mine as she snuggled into my arm.

"I wanted to tell you that yesterday was…confusing for me as well. I felt separated from myself, like it wasn't actually me talking or walking or whatever. I felt like a different person. Like, in the morning, for example. I remember getting up and being horrified by my body, but it didn't feel like it was me actually thinking that. And then later that night I said something about a baby, I would never say something like that! I don't know what got into me."

She stood up quickly and raced over to the other side of the room. She bent down (her figure was quite luscious at that angle, by the way) and gathered up what appeared to be a skirt and blouse. She scowled and held the wrinkled garments up to her body. "See this? I would never, in a million years, wear this skirt, and yet _yesterday_ I wore it."

The skirt seemed fine to me. It reminded me of something Esme would have worn before becoming a human again. I wondered faintly why she hated it so much now.

"And then I wore these _all day_ _long_." She held up a red bra and a matching pair of panties. They once again reminded me of something my wife would have worn as a vampire.

_This Esme is hardly even _your_ Esme._

"What's wrong with them, my dear? I think they're lovely."

She scoffed and nodded sarcastically. "Yes, they're beautiful, but they're for a few hours tops. Wearing them all day gives me a terrible backache, which brings us back to last night. You gave me a massage and told me that you would get me new bras, but I don't need any. I have a drawer full of sturdy bras. So why did I say okay?"

I shrugged. "Maybe you just want more?"

"No," she shook her head. "You were right, I was not myself yesterday. Someone was inside my head, taking the shots for me."

And that's when it all clicked for me. At that moment I knew the woman I was talking to, though resembling my wife in many categories, was not actually my wife, but the man who took my place yesterday as Dr. Carlisle Cullen's wife. We were switching places every day. That's why this Esme recalls being angered by her body the day before. That Esme was _my_ Esme.

_I knew she would be mad about that._

"I…I don't know what to tell you, honey. Do you still feel like that today?"

She contemplated the thought for a moment. "I feel very much in control today."

"Well then that's that. No need to worry about the past, it's in the past. Let's focus on today."

She nodded, her eyes brightening slowly. "Todays the gala," she said. She glanced at the closet, obviously trying to contain her excitement. "It's going to be great."

I smirked at her naïve radiance. She still shined like my Esme.

"My dress, it's so lovely. I love it so much." She smiled that beautiful smile, and this time, when she smiled that glowing smile, only a hint of her unease shined through, and finally I was able to smile too.


	13. Chapter 13

Carlisle P.O.V

Before leaving for the hospital, Esme sternly warned me not to come home late after work. Like a good husband, I patted her arm lightly, kissed her cheek with passionate, but quick, lips and reassured her of my inborn punctuality.

"Don't worry, babe. I'll be here at 5'oclock on the dot. I'm looking forward to tonight too, remember?" I smiled and she laughed softly before nodding.

"I know, I know. I'm just a little nervous, especially with all this mess with Bella…" Her voice trembled off into an incoherent mumble as she looked at me hesitantly, her mouth slightly contorted in obvious distress.

"Please don't worry about her. I'll handle her. Don't worry about her."

Esme looked away, intentionally avoiding my gaze. "I'm not worried."

"Promise me you won't worry about her, Esme."

A soft smile spread across her lips as she nodded slowly.

"I won't."

She raised herself a few inches by getting on the tips of her toes before giving me a quick, chaste kiss. Her sudden innocence was overwhelming as I watched her lean over and grab her bag and coat, her skirt pulling up over her legs. She seemed so young, so inexperienced. The old Esme would have never worn something that would be so tantalizing to a young male specimen, as she had seen what that would often cause. The old Esme didn't like attention. She was too old for it.

"I promise."

Esme's chirpy voice brought me out of my daze like a leather whip on skin. I hardly even knew what was happening before she had pushed me out of the door and into the cramped hallway of the apartment building.

"You need to get going, honey. And I do too…"

She bit her lip and turned back to the kitchen where she grabbed a muffin and a to-go cup of coffee. I thought she was going to hand them to me, but instead she slipped the sugared pastry into her bag and took a long sip from the Styrofoam cup. She slammed the door behind her and began walking down the hall, toward the elevators, her heels clicking annoyingly.

"Come on, Carlisle. I want you there early so you can be done _early_," she moaned, eagerly punching the 'down' button.

I hurried to catch up with my wife, her abruptness somewhat unsettling.


	14. Chapter 14

Carlisle P.O.V

"Did she really say that? I mean, I can believe it but it's kinda unlike her, you know?"

After a fairly ordinary day at the hospital, I came home (on time) to find my wife sitting at her vanity, discussing gossip while a tall, lithe blonde woman curled and stuck pins into her long locks. I was a little startled until the woman turned around, exposing another familiar identity.

It was Rosalie.

"I wasn't expecting others…" I declared slowly, knowing that I was walking into unfamiliar grounds. I didn't know how Rosalie was connected to Esme, and I really didn't want to make a fool of myself by assuming immediate relation.

Esme smiled warmly at me through the mirror, though her eyes stayed firmly fastened on the cellphone nestled between her hands.

"Sorry, it was a quick decision on my part. I forgot to make an appointment to get my hair done. Plus, I decided to invite Rose and Alice to the gala tonight and they had to come over here to get their dresses. I'm letting them borrow a couple of my old ones. Alice is tailoring them now."

I leaned against the doorframe to our bedroom, my body suddenly weary. Although I was excited to see Alice and Rosalie, I truly just wanted some time with Esme before the ball tonight. I had even anticipated some quiet time between the two of us and went out and bought a couple bottles of wine before I came back home. It seemed stupid now to have even thought that this Esme would do her own hair and makeup. Of course she would have someone else do it for her.

"How did you manage to get extra tickets? I thought this thing was pretty elite," I questioned as I returned the bottles I had bought, but not before Esme had caught sight of them in the mirror.

"What are you doing Carlisle? Bring those back; I want a little sip before we have to go. Did you go out and buy those for me? What a sweetie," she cooed seductively. I noticed Rosalie roll her eyes as she twisted Esme's tresses around her fingers in intricate braids.

"Oh, I didn't know you wanted some now…"

I poured her a glass and as she admired the color I repeated my question I had asked her earlier.

She just smiled and giggled before downing the glass in one gulp. "_We are_ _the elite_. My parents give an astronomical amount of money to that hospital every year; I think they're willing to spare a few tickets to keep their biggest donator's daughter happy, don't you?"

I let her statement sink in as I watched Alice run out of Esme's closet holding two dresses, one in either hand. Because of her size one flowed to the ground, its rogue fabric catching on the edge of the rug. A loopy smile adorned her face as she swiftly welcomed me before running into the bathroom to change. She tossed Rosalie her gown, which landed on the bed, and shut the door behind her.

"Do you think it'll fit, Rose? I wore it a while ago, so it should be fairly small. Alice did some adjustments too."

Rosalie shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Thanks again for letting me borrow it. The color is just beautiful," she whispered distantly, more focused on Esme's hair then her own words.

"Oh, Carlisle," Esme said suddenly, waving her hands a bit frantically. "I completely forgot about your clothes, my dear. Your tux is hanging in my closet; I was getting it ready for you before you came. You can change now if you want or you can wait until I get dressed."

I sat down on the bed, careful to avoid Rose's gown, and began taking off my shoes. My feet were killing me after walking around all day. "I'll wait."

As always, Esme looked absolutely stunning, but because of the dress she had picked out, and her curvaceous body, I would say she looked even more ravishing than normal. Her dress, which was made out of silky black material, had a complex corset that pushed everything up and out, causing her cleavage to burst out of the top in pale white twin crests. Two thin straps kept everything in the right position, and allowed her a little more room to move when compared to a strapless dress. At the knee, the dress began to fan out; fostering an allusion of modesty if one looked from the bottom to the top. Of course most men care only to look at what's right in front of them, in which case Esme was hardly modest.

Her makeup was painted on heavily, and her perfume was a strong mix of violet and freesia. She reminded me of an actress from the 1930's, what with her deep red lips and coal black eyelids. I had no idea what to say as she placed diamond studs into her ears and tied a necklace around her neck. I looked at her like a calf standing at a new gate.

"I think he's speechless," Alice laughed.

"I just think he wishes he didn't have to leave. Isn't that right, honey?" Esme leaned herself into me, nearly forcing me to place an arm around her. My mouth was still having a hard time forming the correct word. She grabbed my collar and drew me down a bit so she could whisper in my ear. "Don't worry; we'll have some fun before we go."

I was about to ask her how, since there were two other people in our apartment, when there was a knock at the door. Alice rushed out of the room and came back with two of my sons. Emmett gave Rosalie a playful smile before running to her and throwing his arms around her, pulling her a few inches into the air as she stayed locked in his firm embrace.

Jasper took hold of Alice's hand silently and thanked Esme for inviting all of them. He looked quite dashing in his tux, causing me to doubt my own suaveness.

"We'll be getting out of your hair for a while," Alice said, allowing her husband to guide her out of the apartment. "Thanks for the dress, Esme!"

Rosalie and Emmett followed suit and before long Esme and I were alone at last. She grinned slyly and encouraged me to gather my things and get ready to leave.

"I rented a limo," she explained in a giddy voice. "With plenty of space and blacked out windows."

I was once again surprised by my little Esme's bold agenda, but like before, I accepted it. I found it a bit fun to see her act so brashly where before she would have been disgusted by such crude statements. It even excited me a little, as I could feel myself hardening underneath my dress pants.

"Well then let's go," I said, seizing her hand quickly and racing toward the door, Esme laughing behind me. "Time is wasting!"


	15. Chapter 15

Carlisle P.O.V

The second we got into the long black car Esme was all over me. Call it a day away from sex or call it something else, either way Esme couldn't keep her hands off of me. She immediately told the driver to shut his window to the back of the vehicle and to turn off the air conditioning. Within a few seconds she was straddling me like a horny teenager, her lips at my neck, her hands undoing the zip of my pants.

"I've been waiting _all day_ for this," she groaned in an almost frustrated voice. I hissed as she leaned down to lick my erect shaft, her lips leaving soft kisses over its head. She had quite a magical mouth.

Instinctively, I grabbed her hair, which caused her to pull off of me quickly. Her hands went to her hair, protectively guarding the masterpiece Rose had created a few hours before.

"Are you serious, Carlisle? God, you almost messed it up…"

In return for my idiotic behavior, she told me to pleasure her first before she pleasured me. I decided that was reasonably fair and began rolling up her dress carefully. She slipped her shoes off and leaned against the window, propping her knees up on the seat. With steady hands, I began massaging the flesh of her plumped thighs, slowly reaching her dripping core with each passing second. Her head thrown back against the cool glass, her eyes shut in ecstasy, she looked like a true woman.

_A true human._

We were both able to climax in the back seat of that quite luxurious limo, and with that the night began. A soft light crept through the blackened windows as we neared our destination and I could hear my heart beating fast in my chest as Esme breathed softly, her form reclined across my lap.

_Yes, this would most certainly be an interesting night. _

The driver knocked on the window quietly, signaling that we had arrived. Covering ourselves thoroughly, the man came around and opened Esme's door for her, and assisted her out of the car with a steady hand. I tipped him nicely and sent him on his way.

It was hardly a new experience for me, coming to such an upscale event. I had been to numerous balls and parties similar to the one I was standing in front of in my vampire years, so when Esme and I approached the massive building that was so meticulously decorated and designed, I was hardly on edge. Maybe just a little nervous.

_Maybe a lot._

"Oh, it's so lovely to see you again, Esme! It's been ages!"

I heard a soft sigh escape from my wife before she turned around quickly and enveloped a tall, thin woman into a tight hug. The fake friendliness was palpable in the air as they chatted about menial things like fashion and money. I stood off a few feet from them, politely waiting to go. We hadn't even gotten inside the actual gala and already people were bothering Esme. Typical high class America.

"I heard about your success at beating that pesky cancer you had. What a relief it must have been to finally get over that, hm!" The lady smiled broadly, showing off a mouth full of gummy, pearly teeth. She must have been three decades older than Esme, either that or just naturally unattractive.

_ Cancer?! Esme had cancer?_

After such a miracle one might say it is fitting almost fitting that my own wife, my one true love, finds herself faced with such a startling human disease. Of course she would have had cancer, of course! God can only grant so many miracles and the devil can only be held off for so long.

Esme's face dropped unexpectedly and I saw a shadow pass over her like a ghost. She looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, which of course made me feel uncomfortable. Very quickly the mood had shifted to something much more sinister then money and makeup.

"Um, yes. They were able to do some surgery and I am now in remission. I'm feeling much better," Esme recovered slowly after an awkward moment of silence. She sounded strained.

"Well that's wonderful, dear. Thank God for great doctors, hm?"

Esme smiled quickly and nodded. "Thank God for doctors."

She spat out a hasty goodbye before grabbing my arm tightly and pulling me toward the entrance. She was shaking and though the lighting was dim, for it was already dark, I could see tears bubbling up in her eyes, preparing to fall. I took her hand and held it as we walked in together.


	16. Chapter 16

Carlisle P.O.V

"Do you see Edward? Or Daddy?" Esme whispered harshly as she handed a butler her coat. His eyebrows rose as he stared at my wife and an inevitable bubble of jealousy rose within the back of my throat.

_I knew I should have told her to change her dress, it's just so _vocal.

"Or God-forbid Mother. I really don't want to see her right now. I just know she'll say something menacing."

I, of course, only knew a few people, and those people didn't understand the past that I understood. I had no idea what Esme's parents looked like. She didn't have any pictures of them when we were vampires. She rarely even talked about them.

"And that woman! Good Lord, she acts like we're best friends when I haven't seen her in a decade! She must have heard about the cancer from Mother. Their somewhat friends I think. She should have told her that I had that surgery eight years ago. You would think that would be vital information."

We quickly spotted Edward and Bella within the maze of glitzy faces and expensive silk. Esme waved them down gracefully, an excited smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around her brother. He glanced at me before looking down at his much shorter sister. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"It's just little old me, Sis. It's not like you didn't see me a few days ago," he said, pulling her away from him so he could look at her. His eyes widened and he gave me an appraising look. I shrugged, not really sure what to say.

"You look…quite nice, my darling sister." Edward smirked and Esme blushed. Bella rolled her eyes.

The air of the party was exactly what I had expected out of such an event, overdone and rich. Magnificent chandeliers hanging in every opportune place; all crafted out of gilded gold and adorned with sparkling diamonds. Neat chairs and tables circled one another in a geometric pattern until they reached the edge of a brilliant dance floor made out of an exquisite mosaic depicting angels and cherubs in an intricate and colorful way. Flowers blossomed everywhere, numerous shades and sizes, and they all, somehow, seemed to match the gold that populated every single neck and ear, wrist and foot of every woman in the place. I had been to balls before, some even more extravagant then the one I was standing in, but none had seemed so distinctly foreign and distant. It was beautiful of course, a sort of shameless beauty that almost said "I was meant to be rich", but I no longer felt with that side of society. I felt like a simple doctor, middleclass at best, being dragged around by his wealthy woman, being shown off as a toy.

"Isn't it lovely Carlisle? I just love things like this." She turned to me, her eyes a rich, dark brown in the dim light. They looked empty. She looked empty.

"Very."

Arm in arm, we waded through the torrential amount of people, all of whom seemed to know Esme on an extremely personal basis, so much that we ended up stopping every few seconds to talk to another ailing businessman and his trophy wife. I was tired of their stares after fifteen minutes of our constant discontinuing. They were either gawking at my wife and her low-cut gown or me, both of which I found incredibly disturbing. Were people who considered themselves 'elite' truly this despicable? For some reason I never noticed such vulgar behavior in my vampire life.

I watched my wife as she chatted with another woman, this one very close to her in age. The woman, a short but slender woman with a flat chest and waspish hips was wearing a rather scandalous dress, with a large cut up the side and a long 'V' in the front. I was about to mentally criticize her, while still showing a happy, smiling face, when my eyes landed on the woman standing right beside me. Who was I to degrade another woman when my own wife was dressed similarly? True, her apparent lack of modesty probably stemmed from the fact that she simply had quite a bit more there to show, but either way she was advertising the same thing the other woman was advertising.

I liked the dress, I did, but it was so un-Esme-like that it made me want to vomit. So clouded was I with lust that I did not truly understand what I would have to deal with once Esme and I left the limousine. That dress was not for my eyes only. It was public property and that frustrated me.

"Well, it was nice seeing you. You haven't seen my mother anywhere have you?" Esme asked the lady, smiling as she said it.

"I saw them talking to Rick and his wife a few minutes ago if that helps," the woman explained as she grabbed her husband's hand. The gruff, older man smirked at Esme before regarding me with beady black eyes. He seemed to be sizing up my wife and me.

"Any problems, sir?" I asked politely. He looked taken back by my question and my bluntness.

"Just admiring how beautiful Esme has gotten. It seems like just yesterday she was a little girl sitting on my lap," he said, his voice rough and thick. I didn't like imagining Esme on such a man's lap even if she was just a child.

"I see, well, I would rather you keep your eyes locked on your own wife for the rest of the night. Something tells me my wife is bringing forth very few nostalgic memories for you," I said, gesturing to his bulging pants. His grin faded to a nasty scowl as his grip on his wife tightened. I couldn't help but smile at Esme's surprised expression.

_Sometimes she's too naïve for her own good._

"Carlisle!" Her voice was a harsh whisper against my ear, her hand a consistent pull to reality on my arm. "Stop embarrassing me, please! You know how he is, he's old and senile. He can't control himself."

If it weren't such a crowded room, I would have turned her around and made her look at me, but I knew doing that in front of so many people would certainly cause a commotion. I wouldn't treat my Esme as a child in public, even if she needed to be.

"Oh give me a break, Esme. I don't care if he's twenty-five or seventy-five, you shouldn't let a man look at you like that without saying something! It's ridiculous and disgusting."

"It's just…just leave it alone, Carlisle. I don't need you protecting me every moment of every day. I can handle myself, okay?"

I looked down to meet her eyes, but they were locked on the floor beneath her. I wanted to slap myself for feeling so jealous and reacting in such a childish manner, but for some reason I couldn't feel true guilt for my actions. The old man deserved it and Esme deserved to hear it.

I bit my lip and kept my mouth shut, a miracle in itself. At such an event, I didn't really want to fight with my wife and cause more attention to be drawn to us. Already it seemed like every man in the place was drawn to my wife like a moth to a flame. I was trembling enviously when finally Esme spotted her parents. I sighed in relief as much as defeat.

"Esme, my dear, don't you look…lovely," her mother said slowly as she wrapped Esme in a fake, one-armed hug. The woman, who must have been quite young when she had Esme and Edward, as she still had a look of nativity and innocence to her sleek and smooth face. Her eyes, like twin drops of mud, spoke of something much more sinister though. She smiled at me, her thin lips pulling together in a tight, red line that reminded me of a shiny trail of fresh blood, promising a menacing element within the rich woman.

"So wonderful to see you, Carlisle. I can see you are taking care of my little girl." Esme's mother, whom I had gathered to be called Theresa, spoke with a soft, gentleness that sounded like pure, unadulterated money. I realized, after a moment, that she had unconsciously passed that down to her daughter. She smiled that smile again, as if to mock my new found knowledge.

"She looks healthy." She paused for a moment, her husband glancing at her with scrutinizing eyes. "Maybe a little too healthy."

I could nearly feel Esme's blood boiling as a flush of red appeared on her skin. Her lip was shaking, and I knew, after many years of marriage, that that was a symptom of her anger. She was revving up to go and I no intention of stopping her, especially not after hearing something so nasty come from her own family.

Her father, a tall man with a strong physique that in many ways mirrored my own, seemed to step forward a bit as he noticed Esme's increased rage. He looked a bit older, I noticed, with a maze work of wrinkles dotting his weatherworn face like roads on a map. I stared, unblinking, at the unspoken transaction going on, unable to stand up in the face of such power as the Platt couple illuminated.

"Esme Anne, your mother is right. You are part of a family but you are also part of the Platt industry and you have an obligation to look a certain way to appease people. To say I am disappointed, after seeing you come here dressed as you are, would be an understatement right now. I am tired of having this argument with you. Take a note from your sister-in-law and learn a thing or two about being in the spotlight." The man, who once looked rather regal, now looked more like a coward in my eyes. How someone could be so blatantly rude to his own daughter would always evade me. He was not a great man, who built a wonderful lifestyle for his family, but a bully with cruel and disheartening intentions.

By the way Esme looked he might as well have stabbed her with physical daggers. Her jaw was closed firmly, as if wired shut, and her eyes shown like two glass plates. Her hands were in fists at her side, clutching the black fabric of her dress between her white knuckles.

The man's wife looked a little guilty as she hid behind her husband, as if his formidable stature would be able to protect her from the sight of her crumbling daughter. I tried to grab her gaze, to show her what she had done, but she refused to look in our direction.

"Esme, don't you cry, not here. Not in front of all these people. This might have not been the best place to say something, but you needed to hear it." Esme lifted her head a bit and watched him as he stepped closer toward her. Even from a few feet away he was frightening. I knew I needed to do something, but I didn't know what.

"You need to get this," he stuck a finger into her torso, where her corset concealed most, but not all, of her plushy stomach, "under control."

As I watched my wife, my Esme, start crying right there in the middle of that goddamn ball all I wanted to do was strangle 'Mr. Platt' and shown him what he was doing to his 'little girl'. I wanted, more than anything, for him to feel what she was feeling. I wanted him to feel the humiliation of being called a pig in front of over a hundred people. I wanted him to feel the hurt that had made her cry.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, the lump that had restricted my ability to speak up, and grabbed Esme's hand tightly. She looked at me from behind her other hand which was hiding her teary eyes from view. Her mascara was running horribly. I wanted to kill her father.

"Mr. Platt, I don't think that's a very kind way to speak to your daughter. I had always assumed people of your breed treated their kin with the upmost respect. I obviously misjudged you," I said, quite spitefully. Esme's grip tightened around mine. She was scared.

He was a brute of a man, that Mr. Platt. He found it easy to break other people. He never saw consequences as real, material things that could actually influence reality. Mr. Platt saw what was right in front of him and what he saw in Esme and I was nothing short of a problem. He saw us as a situation he couldn't fix.

"After all," I continued with heightening energy, "she is _my _wife, and I like her the way she is. So I don't really care what you think, she's staying the way she is. Esme is beautiful no matter what her weight is."

Before he could say anything, for I'm sure he wanted desperately to say something, I turned around, Esme by my side, and walked away. I could feel blades being thrown into my back, but I hardly even cared. How could I? Even if he was her father, no one should treat another human being so ruthlessly. He deserved to be taken down a peg.

Esme glanced over her shoulder, still trying to hide her face from view. She must have seen her father's gaze, as she quickly turned back around.

"I-I…oh Carlisle. This is so embarrassing. I cannot believe he said all that in front of _you_. I mean he says that when it's just me and him but… and never in public, you know…" She paused for a moment, standing still in the middle of the crowded floor. I was guiding her to our seat, but she refused to budge. I looked at her, unsure what to say to soothe her crumbled nerves. She was so different then _my_ Esme.

She sighed and bit her lip tightly, signaling her difficulty to find words to say. Some parts of her would always be predictable.

"Do we have to say?" she whispered. "I'm sure I look terrible."

It's true, her makeup was thoroughly ruined, and her dress was rather rumpled but she still looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful, but I was somewhat biased.

"If you want to leave, we will leave, but don't let your father ruin your night. You deserve better then what he has given you."

The reminder brought a soft smile to her face, but not enough for her to want to stay the rest of the night. After less than an hour, we were already on our way back to our apartment, the night sky surprisingly welcoming outside the car window.


	17. Chapter 17

Esme P.O.V

My pillow was soaked when I woke up. My face felt hot with sticky tears and the blankets were pulled so tightly around my plushy body I could hardly breathe. Scared, I reached over for my husband, trying to seek him out in the darkened room. The clock read three in the morning, and although the bedroom was nearly black I could still hear the buzzing city outside the window. For some reason, that frightened me too.

"Carlisle," I whispered, hardly noticing the slight tremor in my voice.

He rolled over, mumbling something incoherently before turning away from me. Frustrated, I pulled the blanket off of him shook him a bit. He muttered something profane under his breath and opened him eyes briefly before shutting them again.

_I suppose his wife in distress isn't enough to wake him up fully._

"Carlisle…I feel really weird," I told him quietly, and it was true. I did feel strange. Not sick really, just weird. I bit my lip and sat up in bed, startled by my body once again.

_This is such an odd reality…_

"Come here, baby," he murmured softly as he wrapped an arm around my middle, quickly pulling me toward him. My breathing picked up when I felt his erection brush against my thigh through his boxers.

_Why on earth is he horny now?_

"I've been dreaming about you." His breath felt hot against my ear. I was beginning to feel feverish for the first time in ages.

_God, he has morning wood. Never thought I would see that._

With jerky movements, he yanked off his boxers and eased himself into me. Startled, I try to move or get out of his arms, but he held strong. I tried to scream, but it came out as a mere whimper and was drowned out by Carlisle's constant grunting. Pain flooded my body as my husband pushed into my bone-dry womb, continually breaking the trust that had been built between us. I felt his arms on my back, firmly holding me in place as he thrust into me repeatedly under the sheets. I was too surprised to do anything but take it. I just laid there like an idiot waiting for it to be over.

"Oh, baby, I really needed this. God…"

He groaned a bit as he moved to straddle my hips, so he was on top. With his full weight on me, I knew fighting was futile so I tried to be quiet and not compare him to Charles. I tried to tell myself that he truly needed it.

Sweat had begun to trickle down my face and settle in the valley between my breasts, making the act that much more uncomfortable. Everything was sticky and disgusting and dark. I could hardly see a thing aside from the faint outline of Carlisle looming overhead.

My husband suddenly seized the headboard directly above me and tightly gripped it as his hips finally stilled. He released inside of me with a shaky breath and fell down beside me, his chest rising and lowering in rapid succession.

Absolutely stunned I futilely tried to find words that would make the situation less awkward for me. Coming up with nothing, I just rolled over and got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, a stream of sticky fluid sliding down both of my legs. I heard Carlisle sigh and sit up in bed. The bedside lamp flickered on and he quietly called for me.

I told him to wait a minute, since I was cleaning myself up. With frantic hands, I searched the bathroom for a washcloth, which, after a few moments of opening cabinets and drawers, I found. I ran it under some warm water and tenderly wiped myself clean of sweat and fluids. I wanted to shower, but I didn't want to go back to sleep with wet hair. As I was throwing my washcloth into the laundry basket, I heard Carlisle call for me again.

"Esme dear? Come here please."

I peeked out of the bathroom and when I saw that he had put his boxers back on, I proceeded to do as he said. He patted the spot next to him on the bed and ushered me over. Cautiously, I sat down in my place and waited for what he was going to say.

_He's lucky I'm even giving him the time of day. _

"Esme darling, that was rude of me. I didn't really know what I was doing…" He paused, his hands folded in his lap as he stared at the floor unsettlingly. "It was immature, even if you told me that it was okay a few months ago. I know it's not okay."

"I-I told you it was okay?" I asked in a wispy voice. He looked down at the floor, his face red with embarrassment.

"I know it was a while ago so you might have forgotten, but you did tell me that if I…you know…that you would be okay with it. I've done it a couple times without waking you up beforehand but you always end up enjoying it. I think. But, this time you seemed a little off. I shouldn't have done it and I'm sorry."

"Um, okay. It's fine I guess…" I murmured, unsure of what else to say. What was I supposed to say? "It's okay that you made me have sex with you?" Really? How well would that go over?

"Well, now that that's out of the way, how about we go back to bed? Tomorrow is Saturday though so if you don't want to we can always go to sleep later," he suggested. His eyes slid over my form slowly, lazily, as if taking in what he already possessed. A king looking over his treasures.

_What does he want?_

"This robe is quite lovely…" he said quietly. His hands made their way to my shoulders as he began to thumb the silky material.

After I had gotten up from…the event…I had put on a short robe to make it known that anything sexual was over. Apparently, by the way Carlisle was eagerly eyeing me, he hadn't gotten the message.

_You have got to be kidding me. Is that all he thinks about now?_

I smiled at him sarcastically and swatted his hands away. "You think you can play that game with me, but you're wrong. You got your treat, Carlisle. Consider it gone for the rest of the month."

I swiftly removed myself from his side on the bed and leisurely walked to the kitchen. Finally away from my unfamiliar husband, I opened the fridge and began perusing the selection of frozen foods.

I found a box of pizza and placed a couple pieces on a paper plate. Surprisingly enough, they were pretty good cold. I leaned against the counter and happily chewed, pleased with my courage when standing up to Carlisle. For the next month he would have to rely on his hand for his 'nighttime needs'.

"Now, Esme," Carlisle said slowly from our bedroom. The information must have just been sinking in for him. He was starting to panic.

"You can't be serious." I noticed his shadow appear on the kitchen wall as he hesitantly walked in. His voice was tentative, soft and yielding. He wanted to strike a deal and I could tell.

"Hm, but I am. What you did was inappropriate and violating. I won't stand for it."

He scoffed rudely and crossed his arms. "Yeah right. I'll give it a week at most."

"You think lowly of your wife, my dear husband," I said, strictly. His eyes flashed with menace and a smile tugged at my lips.

_That'll teach him._

"For God's sake Esme, I said I was sorry! Do I complain every time you drag me to one of those fucking "galas"? All I ask is that you be willing to give me what I want when I want. I have given you so much and that is all I ask. Please just understand."

He offered me a pleading glance before silently walking towards me, his hands at his sides. I watched with morbid curiosity as he slowly maneuvered himself next to me, so he was leaning against the counter. He wasn't touching me at all but I felt a bit invaded. I took a few steps away from him, eyeing him cautiously as I moved.

"Are you scared of me now too? I would never _try _to hurt you Esme. I love you. I thought you knew that." Hesitantly he reached out numbly for my free hand. I let him grab it limply, unsure what to do.

"You _hurt_ me, Carlisle. You _violated_ me."

"I'm so sorry. Can we please just go back to bed and try to forget this? If you want to punish me, then you can, it's your body after all, but I would like for you to think about the implications before you make any drastic decisions…"

Torpidly, I listened to him rant for a few seconds before lazily making my way back to our bedroom. I swiftly removed my robe and turned off the lights. With a soft thud I fell back into bed and threw the covers over my naked form, pulling them tightly around me.

"Sleep on the couch for the rest of the night."

Carlisle looked at me dumbly from above the bed. His eyes squinted dangerously for a few seconds before returning to normal. He grabbed an extra comforter and shamefully walked toward the living room, his head bowed in defeat.

_Serves him right._


End file.
